The Siblings in the Nightmare
by DrHoneyChuckles
Summary: When the man who discovered the body ends up being someone from Sweets' past the young psychologist's world turns upside down. With Brennan on maternity leave will the case ever be solved? All characters, Sweets centered.
1. Intro

_A/N: Guess what! I'm not dead! :D I finished my NaNoWriMo on time and am going to post it up for all of you to see! This is just a quick intro to get you interested. More chapters to follow!_

_Bones is sadly not mine. :( _

_**Warning: This fiction mentions child abuse A LOT. I mean, we're talking about Sweets' history. It can't be avoided.**_

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><p>The interrogation room door slid open silently. Special Agent Seeley Booth and Dr. Lance Sweets entered the room. The two bore grim expressions.<p>

"Sweets, why don't you stay out here for now?" Booth suggested.

Sweets nodded and held out the files for Booth to take. He was shaking.

Booth took the files and walked into the room where a girl was. She was sitting on the chair with her knees pulled up to her chest. Her long black hair was in a tangled mess that hung in curly waves over her slight frame. Her chocolate brown eyes were wide with fear. A large bruise in the shape of a hand was visible on her cheek that wrapped over her jaw bone. That led your eye to the bruises across her throat. On her arms were long bruises in various colors from someone gripping her a little too tight.

Booth slid carefully into his seat. He opened up a file. Clipped to one of the pages was a school picture of the teen who sat across from him. "I'm Special Agent Seeley Booth." He greeted quietly. "Can you tell me your name?"

"Alison." She said while not meeting Booth's gaze. "Alison May Shankle."

"And when's your birthday, Alison?" Booth asked.

"December 20th 1994."

"So you're almost 17?" Booth questioned.

"Yes, sir." Alison replied. She shivered and rubbed her hands on her upper arms. It was late November and she was clothed in a spaghetti strap tank top and basketball shorts.

"Alison, I need to ask you some questions. You're not in trouble, but we need to have your answers on record. Alright?"

Alison nodded.

Booth opened up a file folder and pulled a picture out. He slid the picture across the table. "Can you confirm that this is Laurence Shankle?"

The picture was of a man probably in his mid-sixties. "Yes, sir." Alison replied.

"Is Laurence Shankle the man that gave you those bruises?" Booth asked.

Alison squeezed her eyes shut and looked away. She looked back and her eyes were glassy. She met Booth's gaze. "You don't know what it's like." She told him. "You don't know what it's like to wake up in the morning and think, 'I wonder if dad will beat me today. Maybe he'll take it easy and only use his bare hands.'"

Booth decided not to respond. "Is that a confirmation?" he asked instead.

"Yes." She said firmly. She looked down at the picture again and a flash of anger went through her eyes before it was replaced with fear again. Her feet slid from the chair down to the floor. They were clad in thin sneakers that were close to disintegrating they were falling apart so badly. On her left foot you could see her pinky toe through the side of the shoe. Her hands clasped themselves together on the table.

"Now, Alison, I understand that this will be hard for you, but we need you to tell us about what Laurence Shankle did to you."

The teenager's eyes widened. She chewed on her lip. It was a mannerism Booth knew all too well from someone else. "I can't." She decided.

Sweets took this as his cue to enter. He came in without any files and sat down in the seat next to Booth. "You probably think we don't know what you're going through, but I can guarantee that we do." He kept his voice calm and even despite how fast and hard his heart was pounding.

"Prove it." She challenged.

Booth glanced Sweets direction. Sweets accepted the challenge. "He's either drunk or high all the time. He likes a glass of Budweiser every night at exactly 7:15. If you spill or the foam goes over the edge he hits you. If he runs out of money he hits you. If he runs out of drugs he hits you. Sometimes he'll lock you in the closet and other times he'll make you lie down on the bed and whip you're back with a belt." Sweets had to fight hard to keep the lump in his throat down.

Alison swallowed hard as her eyes glazed over. "How…?"

Sweets took a shaky breath. "Laurence Shankle was my biological father too." He put a hand out to touch Alison's clasped ones, but she pulled away automatically. "I'm your brother."


	2. Discovering the Body

_-*-Yesterday-*-_

It was the dead of night when a man crawled out of his log cabin and headed out into the dark woods. It was November and the trees were naked. A light covering of snow was on the ground. The snow had whipped in yesterday. Although there hadn't been much snow there had been a lot of wind.

The man was shoving his way through what was left of the underbrush. He was muttering to himself. "She better be out here. She wasn't last time." He understood that she was a travelling psychic, but come on. She could at least make the dates that she set herself. In about five minutes he arrived at a clearing in the woods. It opened up into a large meadow that had a dirt road winding past it. He grimaced. "She's not here." He groaned aloud. He walked out to the middle of the clearing and sat on a tree stump there. He'd wait for a few minutes and see if she showed up. That's when he saw someone walk out of the woods, but it wasn't the curvy feminine form that he was looking forward to.

The man that walked out of the woods was large. He walked into the moonlight and the man sitting on the tree stump sighed with relief. "You scared me, Larry!" he said.

Larry, the man who had come out of the woods, just grunted. "Why are you here, Ryan?" He asked as he approached.

"Just taking a midnight walk." Ryan replied. "What are you doing here?"

"Follow me." Larry replied. Ryan got up from his tree stump and followed. They walked to the edge of the meadow and Larry pointed.

"Oh… That's not… Julia is it?" Ryan stumbled.

"Sure is." Larry replied.

Below them was a rotting corpse in what appeared to be a very shallow grave.

Ryan clasped a hand over his mouth. "I think I'm going to be sick." He mumbled through his fingers. That's when the two heard a rustling behind them. They turned around and saw someone else come out of the woods. "I thought this place was a secret." Ryan mumbled.

"Me too." Larry agreed.

"Calm down, fellas." The man said. "It's just me." He held up his hands.

"Well if it isn't Six Finger Pete." Ryan mused. On his left hand you could see an extra finger beside his pinky.

"Well it just so happens that this is my property. So I'd like to know what you two are doing on it." Pete replied as he put his hands down and into his pockets.

"He's having an affair with my wife on it." Larry growled as he pointed at Ryan.

"What? I am not!" Ryan defended.

"What's that there in the ground?" Pete asked as he walked closer to the two. "Dear heavens! Is that a body?"

Larry's hand flew to his pocket where he pulled out a pocket knife. He then lunged forward and attacked Six Finger Pete. Ryan was too stunned to move.

"Quick, help me burry him." Larry replied.

"What? He's not even dead yet!"

"Just hollow a place out in the woods!"

_-break-_

"I think you're lost, Booth." Hodgins stated.

"I am _not_lost." Booth insisted. "They told me to turn left at the big willow tree. Have you seen any willow trees?"

"Actually-" The entomologist started.

"Don't answer that." Booth said quickly.

"I have to agree with Hodgins." Sweets said from the back seat.

"And I agree with the doctor." Fisher said dully. He was sitting to Sweets' right.

"Why am I here anyways?" Sweets asked.

"The guy who discovered the body is… err… catatonic. So I was hoping you could use your shrinky magic to see if you can get him talking." Booth explained.

"I highly doubt he's catatonic. It's more likely that he's in shock." Sweets replied.

"I agree with Doctor Sweets. From my experience in loony bins, catatonic is a schizophrenic state where someone can become unresponsive and immovable."

"Exactly. Thank you, Fisher."

"Glad I could be of help." Fisher replied and then realized he'd said something happy. He mentally cursed his mother for all of those stupid motivational sayings on her fridge. At least she had stopped calling him eighty times a day.

"And remember that psychology isn't magic. It's a soft science that holds no real merit." Hodgins' eyes dance with laughter as he glanced back at the young doctor.

"Thank you, _Doctor __Brennan_." Sweets said with a roll of his eyes. Sweets assumed that since Doctor Brennan was on maternity leave Hodgins felt the need to fill in her shoes.

There was a moment of silence before Hodgins pointed. "There goes a willow tree."

"Don't make me shoot you." Booth snapped back.

Half an hour later the quartet made it to the crime scene.

Booth stepped out of the car and rubbed his eyes tiredly. Sweets noticed. "You alright, Booth?" he asked.

"Hm? Oh ya, the baby just had me up late last night. That's all." Booth replied.

Hodgins and Fisher came from around the other side of the car in their full Jeffersonian get up. "Where's the body?" Hodgins asked as he clapped his hands together. He loved field work.

"Geez, don't sound so excited about death." Fisher commented.

"I'd say where the mass of policemen and yellow tape is. But that's just a guess." Booth replied dryly. He then turned to Sweets. "Go work your magic." He shoved him forward.

"Sure." Sweets mumbled and walked forward. He quickly spotted where he could see a man sitting on the edge of an ambulance. Someone was trying to hand him a bottle of water. Booth, Hodgins, and Fisher made their way over to where the crime scene was.

Sweets got a shiver done his spine as he approached the man he could see had discovered the body. His assumption from earlier had been correct. He was not catatonic, just in shock.

"Excuse, me." Sweets said as he walked over. "I'm Doctor Lance Sweets with the FBI. I'm a psychologist."

The paramedics looked relieved. The man looked up at Sweets. His eyes widened and suddenly the man who couldn't talk was rambling. "Lance!" He jumped up and grabbed Sweets by his shirt. "It's Julia, Lance. It's Julia! I haven't seen her in weeks."

"Sir, you need to calm down." Sweets said. He appeared calm on the outside, but inside his thoughts and heart were racing. This was Ryan and Ryan was talking about Julia and when Ryan talked about Julia openly things were bad.

Booth heard the commotion and turned from the shallow grave he was standing beside. "I'll be back." He said to Hodgins and jogged over.

"Look, Sir, just calm down!" Sweets tried desperately. The man, Ryan, continued to grab a hold of Sweets and spout nonsense about Julia.

"Hey, what's the problem here?" Booth asked and violently jerked Ryan off of Sweets. Sweets thought a chunk of his shirt was going to rip off.

From across the field Hodgins nudged Fisher. "I bet you five bucks Booth nails this guy in the face."

"You're on."

Ryan didn't even acknowledge Booth's presence. "What happened, Lance? You forget about us?"

"No!" Sweets protested.

"Sweets, you know this guy?" Booth asked.

"Sadly." Sweets replied.

"Sweets? Is that your new name? Too ashamed to keep your old one?"

Sweets lost his cool. "He _beat_ me, Ryan!"

"You deserved it!"

"I was four!"

Ryan swung his fist around and caught Sweets' on the mouth. Sweets stumbled backwards slightly. He put a hand to his now split and bleeding lip.

"Ooooh." Both Hodgins and Fisher winced.

"That's it." Booth growled and turned Ryan around. He slapped cuffs on him. "You're under arrest for assaulting a federal officer."

"Hey!" Ryan protested.

Booth waved an officer over and Ryan was shoved roughly into a police car. "Sweets, you alright?" Booth asked.

Sweets spit out some blood. "I'm fine." He replied. "I'm sorry, Booth."

"Hey, you're the one that got punched." Booth said and noticed the psychologist was shaking slightly. "How about we take a walk?"

"Sure." Sweets agreed hurriedly.

The two walked so they were out of sight of harsh staring eyes.

"That's depressing… for you, Doctor Hodgins. You owe me five bucks." Fisher said and then crouched down to examine the body.

Hodgins was astounded. "Do you not even feel bad that Sweets got clocked in the mouth?"

Fisher shrugged. "Bad things happen to good people."

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><p><em>AN: Have I ever mentioned that Fisher is pretty much my favorite Squintern? First comes Finn, then comes Fisher. :D Hope you enjoyed the chapter!_


	3. Love and Lovers

Booth and Sweets were standing behind a large tree. "You wanna tell me what's going on?" Booth asked gently.

"His name's Ryan Thatcher." Sweets replied as he shuffled his foot. "He was friends with my biological father. He claims that the body he found is… is Julia." He pressed his hand to his lip and applied some pressure in an effort to stop the blood flow.

"And Julia's a lover?" Booth guessed.

"Sort of… Julia Shankle was my biological mother."

"Sweets-"

Sweets held up his hands to stop Booth. "If it is Julia you're main suspect is going to be my biological father."

Booth took a careful look at Sweets. "And you're perfectly fine with this?"

"Agent Booth, I was five when I finally left them. I think it's time he was punished for the things he did." Sweets said sincerely.

"You sound like Bones." Booth muttered under his breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. "These are your _parents, _Sweets!"

"My _biological _parents. Not my real parents."

Booth saw his point. "Alright, Sweets." He then left the psychologist alone. Sweets collapsed into a sitting position under the tree once Booth was out of sight. There was a light covering of snow on the ground and it crunched under his feet. He put his face into his hands. He never wanted to have to remember those things. He'd been four the day the police had been called to sounds of a domestic disturbance. It was the day the scars on his back had been made.

Booth made it back over to the shallow grave. "Is Sweets alright?" Hodgins asked.

"A little shaken up." Booth said. "He should be fine."

Hodgins nodded grimly.

"The victim is female." Fisher announced. "Late forties to mid-fifties."

"Please say murder." Booth pleaded.

Hodgins lifted a brow. "Do you want a case that bad?"

"No, I just want to lock a child abuser up for a murder charge." Booth replied.

Fisher looked carefully at the torso. "Definitely murder." He pointed to several spots on the sternum and the ribs. "Those nicks are definitely from a blade of some sort and I count… eight without cleaning the bones."

"Murder." Hodgins said first.

"Murder!" Booth echoed loud enough that everyone around them could hear. "Ship the body back to the Jeffersonian!"

"The ground's practically frozen." Hodgins observed suddenly.

"Yes, it preserved the body longer than a regular temperature would have." Fisher agreed.

"But how did it get uncovered? The ground can't up and walk away." Hodgins replied.

"Good question…" Booth said. His eyes travelled over to where Ryan Thatcher was still sitting in the cop car. "Hodgins, collect your dirt. Fisher, be Bones." He walked off with determination in his stride.

"What does that mean?" Fisher asked.

"It means make sure they don't mess anything up when they move the body." Hodgins interpreted.

Booth opened the door of the patrol car and peered in at Ryan. "Hey there, buddy." He greeted as he got into the car and sat down. He slammed the door shut. "Now me and my little team were looking at the body and we identified the body as your woman… What was her name?"

"Julia." Ryan snapped.

"Ah, Julia Shankle. That's it." Booth leaned forward and stared Ryan hard in the eyes. "What we were wondering was how the ground got up and moved from its spot covering the body."

Ryan grimaced. "I want a lawyer."

"Well guess what? We're not in an interrogation room. So guess who's gonna cough up the answer?"

Ryan's grimaced deepened. "Lawyer." He repeated.

"You know when people call lawyer that just means guilty in my book." Booth reached for the door handle. "So I guess I'll just tell the nice officer out there to add homicide to your charges." Booth opened the door.

"Wait!" Ryan called.

Booth paused, but Ryan remained silent. "You have ten seconds."

"If anyone were to kill Julia it would be Larry Shankle." Ryan spouted.

"I already knew that." Booth responded. "Tell me something I don't know."

"Um… L-Larry is an alcoholic and a drug user." He babbled.

"Nope." Booth glanced at his watch and then started to step out of the car.

"Julia was seeing someone else!" He blurted.

"Is that right?" Booth asked. "Well you got your charge dropped down to an accessory to murder. Tell me who this certain someone is and the murder charge is dropped all together." He bargained.

Ryan gulped. "Me."

"Ding ding ding! We have a winner!" Booth said and slammed the car door shut. "Keep an eye on him, will ya?" Booth asked the cop who was standing outside the vehicle. The cop nodded.

Sweets had made his way back over by this time. "Did you just interrogate him?" He asked.

Booth shrugged. "Just asked a question."

"And that question was whether or not he was having an affair with Julia, right?" Sweets asked.

"You know sometimes I really wonder if you're not telepathic." Booth replied as he headed back toward the body.

"Agent Booth," Sweets caught Booth's arm before he could get out of reach. Booth turned to face the psychologist. "My mom's a psychic. When I found her she was travelling with a circus. She wouldn't just come back for no apparent reason."

"Well her psychic powers didn't exactly foresee that she was going to get killed, did they?"

_-break-_

'_Stop thinking about how much you love him and start thinking about how much he hurts you.'_

Alison Shankle gulped as she the line played over the TV. She glanced from her father and back again. She thought of the conversation she had overheard between her mother and her mother's friend. She had said practically the same thing. That night her mom had left again. Not after a yelling match with her father though. She sat in the corner of the run down room. Across from her was the old television and to her left was a beaten up couch. The couch was an ugly argyle print that was ripped in various places. And only God knew how many potato chip crumbs were under those cushions.

The shaggy carpet she had her bare feet entwined in was brown and stained. She was currently sitting Indian style on said carpet with her Agelbra II book splayed out in her lap. She was insanely glad that they had been assigned something easy tonight. She still had a Biology lab on DNA to finish though. She looked up to see her father staring at her. "Yes, sir?" she asked.

"What are you doing?" He demanded from his spot on the couch.

"Homework." She replied.

"What kind?"

"Algebra II and Biology." She replied and brushed some hair behind her ear. She hated that she had to act around him. She wished she could just be herself for once. _'__Maybe __you __should __sto p__thinking __about __how __much __you __love __him __and __think __about __how __much __he __hurts __you.__' _Her mother's friend's voice rang through her head.

'_I __don__'__t __love __him __though.__' _Alison told herself. _'__I__'__ve __wanted __out __of __here __for __a __long __loooong __time.__'_

"Ryan is supposed to be coming over today." The man said gruffly. "He's bringing my stuff."

"Alright. I'll have everything ready." Alison replied with a smile. Her insides churned. Tonight was not going to be a good night.

Two hours rolled by and Alison had everything ready as promised. But Ryan never showed up. And that made Laurence Shankle mad.

7:15.

Alison was reading a book when the time rolled around. She looked up and held back an expletive. She raced out into the kitchen and pulled open the refrigerator door. Oh no. Oh no. Her breathing picked up speed. There was no beer in the fridge.

"Dad?" She called. "There's no beer in the fridge."

Silence was all that could be heard.

"There's _what?_"

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><p><em>AN: Don't you love my cliffhangers? ;) Thanks for all the lovely reviews so far, guys/gals! It means a lot!_


	4. The Raid

Booth had gone over his notes again. It wasn't hard to pull up Laurence Shankle's record. He was your class A scum bag. The list was long and Booth was surprised at the things he found. There were charges for drug possession, drug paraphernalia, child abuse, and attempted rape. After Sweets had been put into foster care Laurence was locked up in jail for seven years. But it was official, he'd checked with his boss, they were raiding his house. Not just to try and catch a murder suspect, but also on a lead for possible drug possession. He'd let Sweets know earlier that raiding the house was a possibility. He'd not been happy when Sweets had insisted on coming along. Booth glanced up at the clock on his wall. Nine o' clock. He shut off his computer and his office lights and then headed over to his favorite shrink's office.

"Sweets?" Booth asked as he entered the office.

"Over here." Sweets called.

Booth walked in and found Sweets sprawled out on his back on the couch. His expression looked troubled. "You alright?" Booth asked as he leaned on the back of the couch so that he was looking down at the twelve year old.

"Ya, just thinking is all." Sweets replied.

"Well don't think too hard. We need that brain of yours for tomorrow." Booth said jokingly.

The joke did nothing to lighten Sweets' mood.

"So I take it you're still going?" Booth made sure.

Sweets nodded. "I know the layout of the house. If anything goes wrong you could use my knowledge."

Booth sighed. "You don't have to do this to yourself, Sweets."

It was Sweets' turn to sigh now. "We went over this already, Booth. He needs to be punished for what he did to me and Julia."

Booth nodded. "I'll be over in the morning to get you. Make sure you get some sleep tonight. I have the feeling it's going to be a long day tomorrow." He slipped out of the office and closed the door.

Sweets continued to lie on his back and stare at the ceiling. He highly doubted he'd be sleeping tonight.

_-break-_

Booth was sipping his morning coffee. Brennan had made it this morning and boy did she make some mean stuff. He told her it could make hair grow on your chest. Brennan had said such a thing was not physically possible. Booth had shrugged and kissed her forehead and then leaned down to kiss his baby girl's forehead. He was now walking down the hall to his office. He grabbed up some folders and then decided to see if Sweets was in yet. He saw that the psychologist's light was on.

"Good morning!" He greeted loudly as he entered.

There was a loud thump. "Agent Booth!" Sweets said with surprise. He stood up quickly from where he'd landed on the floor. His clothes were rumpled and he hurried to smooth them out. "I wasn't expecting you!"

"I said I was stopping by in the morning." Booth said. He studied Sweets a little more carefully.

"I was… uh… just getting some stuff ready. Er…" Sweets grabbed some files off of his desk. "I made a profile on Laurence."

"You never went home last night."

Sweets sighed and slapped the file back on his desk. He shoved his hands into his pockets and looked at his feet. "That obvious, huh?"

Booth smiled sadly. "Ya."

Sweets grumbled and rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. "I just couldn't stop thinking about everything that could go wrong today." He looked up at Booth. "I haven't seen my biological father in probably sixteen years."

"I told you, Sweets. You don't have to go." Booth said. He took a large swig of his coffee and watched Sweets carefully.

"I still want to go." Sweets said determinedly.

"Alright." Booth nodded. "Let's get going then. But let me make myself clear. I know you have a gun and I know you know how to use it, but I do _not_, I repeat, do _not _want you in that house when we raid it. Do you understand?"

Sweets nodded. To be honest, he'd never wanted to be in on the raid in the first place.

The preparation had been quick. All the agents involved had been ready on time and they were rolling on time. The Shankle household was an hour and a half away. An hour and a half was a long time.

Sweets simply sat in the passenger seat and stared out the window. He watched the landscape pass by in a haze. His mind was in a dark place. Booth would occasionally glance over at Sweets and see the dark expression on his face. He was worried for the kid. This had to be hard for him. He couldn't imagine putting himself in that situation. He knew what an abusive father was like, but from the way Brennan had described Sweets' scars? His own father had taken it easy.

The FBI vehicles whipped themselves around the front of the house with screeching tires. Sweets winced as he saw the house. 643 Elmwood Street. The house was brick and the porch was half falling down. The paint on the porch had been white at one time, but it had all worn away by now. The roof was sagging and some of the windows had been boarded up.

"Let's go." Booth said into the mic on his wrist. Sweets waited in the car.

Booth nodded and a man beside him kicked the door in. "FBI!" Booth announced loudly as he scanned the living room. A man jumped up from the couch and started to run away. Booth chased after him. "FBI, freeze!" He ducked as something was thrown at him. It hit someone in the shin behind him. Laurence Shankle had ran into the kitchen and was now ducking behind the counter throwing everything he could get his hands on.

"Get out of my house! You have no right!" He was yelling.

"Look, Mr. Shankle, we have you cornered!" Booth yelled as he dodged a cast iron frying pan. "Just come out with your hands up and we won't be forced to use violence!"

Frying pan, pot, pot, wooden spoon, spoon, ladle, glass punch bowl… When the knife came sailing through the air Booth had his final straw. "That's it." He grumbled. He holstered his gun and pulled out a Taser. He crept up to the counter without being hit and quickly peeked around the corner. He then jumped out and shot the Taser at the Laurence Shankle. The man seized up with a large butcher's knife in his hand. After the electricity was done coursing through his body Booth cuffed the man. "Get him out of here." He told one of the agents standing by.

Laurence was picked up off the ground and dragged outside. When Sweets saw the man being pulled out of the house he went in to find Booth. Booth was moving up the stairs at the time Sweets entered. "Is anyone else here?" Sweets asked as he jogged to catch up with Booth.

"No, my agents say the house is clear." Booth said.

"Then why are we going upstairs?"

"To look for 'drugs.'"

Sweets got to the top of the stairs and gulped. His color drained from his face. Booth had moved forward down the hall once he got to the stairs. Sweets pushed a door open that was directly to his left. The door squeaked as it swung open to reveal a baby blue room. The room was relatively small. On the far wall were two windows, in between those was a bed. There was a dresser and a full body mirror on the right wall. On the left wall was a set of closet doors. Across all the walls though were posters. He recognized some of them as heavy metal bands. Another one was for the movie Inception. There was also some art taped up on the walls.

The red flag's went up in Sweets' mind as soon as he saw the posters and drawings on the wall. He was six when he left. Why would there be band posters up on his walls? He walked over to the small bed made for toddlers. The sheets were a light blue, almost the same as the walls. Then he noticed it.

Blood.

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><p><em>AN: So what do you guys think so far? :D Reviews are greatly appreciated! And thanks goes to people who have reviewed so far!_


	5. Blood

He flipped the comforter over. Lots of blood. His eyes darted to the closet doors and saw a padlock on the outside. It was locked. "BOOTH!" He yelled. Sweets hurdled over the bed and started pounding and pulling on the closet doors.

Booth heard Sweets' distressed cry and was down the hall in a flash.

"There's someone in here!" Sweets cried as he rammed his shoulder into the doors.

Booth ran over. "On three." He said. They both lined their shoulders up with the closet doors. "One… two… three!"

The two men threw all of their body weight forward. There was a loud snap and the closet doors broke off of their hinges and tipped inwards. Sweets ignored the thudding pain in his shoulder and quickly pulled the doors away. A girl was sitting in the corner of the closet with her head leaning against the wall. She only wore short exercise shorts and a bra. Her back was cut open in long gashes. She threw her arms up to cover her face. She whimpered pitifully.

"Get a paramedic!" Booth yelled.

Sweets crouched down in front of the girl. "We're not going to hurt you, alright? It's over. You're safe." He tried.

"He's gonna hurt me." She whispered.

"No he's not." Sweets pressed. "We have him in custody. He's not going to touch you ever again."

Alison lowered her arms and peeked out at her savior. She stared into mirrors of her brown eyes. "Ever?" she whispered.

"Ever." Sweets reassured.

Booth crouched down beside Sweets. "Hey, honey," he greeted kindly. "Do you think you can stand for us? We're going to get you some help."

Alison shook her head tears were squeezing their way out of her eyes. "My back…"

Sweets understood completely. "I'll get her arms." He told Booth. Booth nodded. Sweets maneuvered himself inside the closet and carefully placed his arms underneath her armpits. Booth got a hold of her underneath the knees. They carefully carried her out of the closet, into the hall, and down the stairs. The kitchen counter was the closest flat surface. An agent that was close by saw their intentions and cleared off the counter. Booth and Sweets carefully sat her down on her side. Alison rolled over onto her stomach.

Sweets swallowed hard as he saw the full extent of the wounds on her back. His face paled even more. Booth had pulled a stool over and was sitting at the counter. He was talking to Alison gently and stroking her hair. Tears were pouring down Alison's face. Sweets pushed his way out the back door and made it to the grass before he threw up.

Sweets felt his body break out in a cold sweat. His head was spinning. His stomach churned dangerously and he knew if he moved the slightest bit the rest of his stomach contents would be on the grass in front of him. The image of that girls' back hit him again and he heaved. The girl had to be a teenager. How long had she been in this house? Why hadn't Child Services picked her out by now? Kidnapping wasn't a part of the profile so was she..?

Sweets threw up again.

Booth stayed with the injured girl until the paramedics showed up. He then made his way out the door he'd seen Sweets go a few minutes before. Sweets was sitting back against the fence that surrounded the small yard. His head was in between his knees. Booth could see from a distance away that the psychologist was shaken up. He carefully stepped his way over and crouched down beside him. He laid a hand on his shoulder.

Sweets glanced up and then put his head back between his knees. "How is she?"

"She's gonna be fine." Booth assured and squeezed his shoulder. "How are you?"

"I… uh…" he laughed nervously. "I threw up."

"Well, that's one way to get your feelings out." Booth said. Gosh, he hated emotional moments.

"You won't tell anyone will you?" Sweets squeaked. "Never mind, that's a childish request-"

"I'm not going to tell anyone, Sweets." Booth replied and squeezed his shoulder to reassure him. "As far as I'm concerned you ran outside to get some fresh air and ward off a panic attack."

"'Cause that sounds so much better." Sweets replied sarcastically. "Thanks anyways."

"No problem."

Sweets took a deep breath and swallowed. "I need to go back up to my… her room." He looked up at Booth.

"Whatever you need to do, kid." Booth said.

Sweets used the fence behind him to pull himself up. He made his way through the back door and was careful not to look at the girl on the counter. He made it to the bottom of the steps. He gripped the railing with white knuckles. He counted the steps. Sixteen. Only sixteen small steps separated him from his childhood nightmare. He treaded lightly on the hazardous steps. He hadn't noticed before how rickety the railing was or how cracked the treads of the stairs were. This place had really fallen apart since he'd left.

And that girl had to live here.

Sweets' stomach gurgled. Booth winced as he heard the noise. This was why he was an FBI Agent and not a school nurse.

Sweets went straight for the closet he had found Alison in. He pushed the doors aside that he and Booth had broken off. He pushed what little clothes were on the rack to the right side. He crouched down and pulled at a board in the far left corner. It easily popped out of place. "It's still here." He said incredulously.

Booth peered over his shoulder to see a hidden storage tub under the floor boards. It was filled with things for children like crayons, coloring books, little toy dinosaurs, and some army men. Along with those items though were things for a more mature audience. CDs, notebooks, a photo album, a movie ticket stub, a flashlight, a yearbook, a racing number with '29:38!' scribbled on it, and some books.

Sweets pulled the tub out of the floor and slid it to the side as if it didn't mean anything. His glistening eyes were fixed on the wood below it. "The three rules of survival." Sweets pressed his fist to his mouth to keep any sobs down that threatened to escape.

On the wood in the bottom of the secret compartment there was a message scrawled in red crayon. "I wrote this when I found out I was about to leave." Sweets explained. "I left it… I left it to make sure that if anyone else was trapped in here they'd have a chance."

Booth read the toddler's message carefully.

_The 3 Rools 2 Sirvive:_

_1 Call dad sir_

_2 Keep kwiet_

_3 Dont ask kwestions_

A corner of Sweets' mouth turned up as he looked up and studied the walls. "I drew some of these." Crayon drawings were scattered across the walls. "I spent half of my childhood in this closet."

Booth wasn't sure what to say. He honestly couldn't believe it was real. Sweets: the innocent twelve year old. How could he have such a violent background and still turn out to be the good man that he was?

"Is that girl your…?" Booth asked. He trailed off as he saw how Sweets stiffened.

He stood up and kept a grimace on his face. "Let's hope she's not. For her sake. I only spent six years here. I don't want to know what he could have done to her." His gaze went over to the bed. "I'm sure there's enough blood there for a sample." He said grimly.

"How about we head back to the lab and we'll have Cam test it?" Booth suggested.

Sweets nodded. He trusted Cam not to screw things up.

_-break-_

"Sweets, you're looking rather pale." Cam commented. She had Sweets' sleeve rolled up and was wiping a patch of skin with an alcohol swab. "Are you sure you want to do this on an empty stomach? And normally this would just be a finger prick-"

"I know, I know. I just… just get it over with, please." Sweets was looking the opposite direction.

"Alright. Just to remind you I'm using the smallest needle possible. You probably won't even feel it."

"Don't talk about the needle." Sweets squeezed his eyes shut. "Just do it and don't tell me."

It was only Sweets and Cam in the office. Sweets had loosened his blue tie and unbuttoned the first two buttons on his shirt. He was sitting on a chair in Cam's workspace. He had a white knuckle grip on the edge of the chair.

Cam was dressed in a dark purple top and a black skirt. She was throwing the cotton swab away and retrieving the needle. "The tenser you are the more this is going to hurt, Sweets. Just try and relax." His fear of needles was almost comical.

"I hate needles. I hate giving blood. I hate getting shots." He mumbled under his breath as he tried to loosen up his arm. His eyes were still squeezed shut.

"How in the world did you stand getting stitches when you got shot?"

"Trust me. I didn't want them."

Cam smirked, held the psychologist's arm still, and quickly inserted the needle. She carefully drew the blood out. Sweets winced as he felt the small prick of the needle. The needle itself didn't scare him, it was just the fact that something was breaking through his skin and sucking out his blood. It was more like modern day anti-vampirism, if you would.

"All done!" Cam announced happily as she swabbed the crook of Sweets' elbow again. "I didn't even have to take that much. Would you like to see?"

"No thank you, Doctor Saroyan." Sweets said hastily.

Cam smiled and started her work. She tried to make small talk. "So what did this girl look like?"

"Um… Her name's Alison." Sweets replied as he rolled his sleeve down. "She has curly black hair and brown eyes. Her skin's darker than mine is." The look he received from Cam did not help his case. He was trying to prove that she was _not _his sister. "I mean it could just be a coincidence which is more likely. After Laurence Shankle went to jail I highly doubt that Julia stayed with him."

"Except that the guy Booth interrogated said they were still married."

Sweets shrugged. "Julia's a traveler. And it could be that Laurence is having a psychotic break and is kidnapping teens in the area that remind him of either himself, Julia, or me."

Cam stopped what she was doing and turned around the face the psychologist. "What are you going to do if she _is _your sister, Sweets? Are you just going to brush it off like it's no big deal? You can't just leave her to the foster system. You know what that does to people. You have to stop trying to convince yourself that she's not your sister and be prepared for the situation that she may be your sibling."

Sweets wiped a hand down his face. He looked up at Cam. "I don't know how to raise a teenager."

Cam smiled slightly. "No offense, Sweets, but you practically are one."

"Thank you." Sweets replied dryly.

"How old is she anyways?" Cam asked as she turned back to her machines.

"Seventeen." Sweets replied. He tapped his hands against his knees in rhythm. "Is it done yet?"

"Be patient." Cam replied. "I'm not a miracle worker."

Sweets huffed. "So… Booth told you what happened right?"

"He told me that you found someone who could possibly be your sister and that she had not been in the greatest shape when you found her." Cam confirmed.

He nodded. "Basically." Sweets was grateful Booth hadn't revealed his queasy stomach.

Cam picked up a tablet and clicked her screen on. Two bars came on the screen. They were both the blue squiggle lines graphs on black. Or at least that's what they looked like to the psychologist. To Doctor Saroyan they looked like maps of DNA.

"So are those both Alison's?" Sweets asked as he squinted at the screen. Cam had analyzed Alison's before she'd drawn Sweets' blood.

"The top one is Alison's." Cam replied. "The bottom one is yours, Sweets."

Sweets looked from the top one to the bottom one. "B-but they're practically identical!" He stuttered.

"She is definitely your full blooded sister, Sweets." Cam said as she sat down her tablet. Sweets' color had drained from his face even more so than before. "Sweets? You alright?"

"Oh yes, I'm fine… I just… My tongue feels fuzzy?"

"Doctor Sweets, you are _not _passing out on me." Cam insisted.

"I'll try?"

"How about we get some sugar in your system?" Cam suggested. She walked over and gripped the psychologist's upper arm. "How about some coffee?"

"Sounds good to me."

* * *

><p><em>AN: This chapter's a tad late, but Merry Christmas/Happy New Year! Hope you all enjoy. :) _


	6. The Class A Scumbag

Booth was at the FBI. He was not bringing Sweets in on this interrogation. It would only make things a lot more complicated. He was even having a hard time trying to quell his inner anger. He stared through the one way glass at Laurence Shankle. He had a stack of files in his hands. One of them was filled with pictures from the times Alison Shankle had been in and out of the emergency room. Another was from when a Lance Shankle had been in and out of the ER. He hadn't looked at those photos. They would be his last resort. Then there was a folder for Julia Shankle's visits to the hospital. Booth figured that the Shankle family and the staff at the hospital were on a first name basis.

Booth's fists clenched in rage again. How could something like this happen without anyone noticing? Why didn't the neighbors report when they heard screaming and yelling coming from the home? It wasn't like the house was secluded. It sat on a corner. There was a house in every direction from it.

The rest of the folders in his stack were for Laurence himself. They listed his charges along with any material evidence, interviews, or photos that had been filed with it. Booth took a deep breath and picked up the massive pile. He then opened the door to the interrogation room. He had to resist the urge to crinkle his nose. He swore he was going to get drunk just off of the smell this man was emitting.

Laurence Shankle was clad in a black and red flannel shirt that was barely able to be buttoned. The shirt was so small on the mass of a man that the shirt gapped and you could see his chest and stomach in the places where the edges didn't meet. His pants were blue jeans that probably hadn't been washed in two weeks. His face though was what got Booth. Sweets was his father's child. Their jaw line was the same along with the eyes. Those chocolate orbs that usually carried warmth with Sweets were filled with hate and disgust with Shankle. He'd seen the same orbs on Alison Shankle. Booth didn't need a DNA test to see the similarities between the three. Laurence's hair though was a greasy dirty blond that was nearly gone, his nose resembled a hawk, and his eyebrows were very thick.

Booth entered the room and sat down across from him. He slapped the files down on the table.

"Where's my lawyer?" He asked gruffly. His voice was scratchy from years of smoking.

"He's on his way." Booth replied. "Before he gets here though, I thought I'd go over some things." He opened up the file on top and started pulling out pictures. The pictures were from the hospital Alison was currently at. They showed her wounds in clear detail. "We know you did this." He said blatantly.

"How?" Laurence asked and squinted at Booth.

"Come on, man." Booth said and leaned back in his chair. "The way you reacted at the crime scene? We could peg you for assaulting an officer. Add child abuse onto there and you'll probably be in for the rest of your life."

"I didn't assault an officer." Laurence replied.

"You scuffed my shoe. Someone's got to pay for it." Booth kept a lackadaisical tone.

"Scuffin' a shoe isn't assault." Laurence shot.

"Tell that to my prosecutor. I've got her in my back pocket. She could keep your lawyer away for _days_." He accented. Booth then pulled a list of past charges out and started reading through them. He would glance at Laurence occasionally to see his reaction. Once he was done reading the list of offenses dating back more than thirty years ago he said, "And now we're going to add a new one to the list! Homicide." He let the folders fall to the table.

"I didn't murder nobody." Laurence said as his eyebrows knitted together.

"Oh?" Booth slid the pictures of Julia Shankle's body onto the table. "Then how is it that your _wife _goes missing and no one reports her as such? Hm?" Booth leaned in close and could smell Laurence's maggoty breath. "You want to know what I think?" He growled threateningly.

"What do you think, Agent?" Laurence asked. He held Booth's gaze.

"I think she tried to leave you. I think after all these years she finally got the guts to tell you to back off or she was taking your kid and leaving."

Laurence's eyes flashed with rage. "You have _no _idea what you're talking about."

"Actually, I do." Booth retorted. "I've had to work with scum bags like you for long enough to know how the organ on top works." They were still face to face keeping an intense glare. "You enjoy hurting kids. Your _own _kids. And you enjoy pushing women around. Does it make you feel like a man? When you see them crying and begging…" Booth saw something flash through Laurence's eyes. "Oh! I see how it is!" Booth stood up as the sudden revelation hit him. He looked inanely happy on the outside, but on the inside it made him feel like he was going to puke. He slapped his hands on the table and leaned forward. "You get off on it, don't you? Is that the only way you can get aroused anymore? Your wife doesn't do enough for ya?"

"SHUT UP!" Laurence yelled.

"Ooh. A little feisty?" Booth pulled out pictures of Julia Shankle with purple bruises on her face and arms and slapped them on the table. He lined them up with the pictures of Alison already on the table. He then opened the file with Sweets' photos in them. Booth slapped them on the table without looking at them. "Is this what you do when you get mad? Send someone to the hospital?"

Laurence clamped his jaw shut.

"Look at him, Laurence!" Booth demanded in a loud voice as he pushed a picture of toddler Lance forward. "He _still _has scars!"

As soon as Laurence sucked in air to bellow something at Booth the door to the interrogation room opened. A shrewd looking man stepped in. "Don't say another word, Mr. Shankle. And what do you think you're doing, Agent? You know that-" The man grabbed Booth's arm to spin him around. Booth's hand snapped out and caught a hold of the lawyer's wrist.

"Don't touch me. Ever. You understand?" Booth demanded.

The lawyer swallowed hard. "Understood."

"Good." Booth swept all of the pictures back up into their correct folders as he said, "I was making sure Mr. Shankle here knew what he was being charged with." Booth bumped past the lawyer and went out the door. His fists were clenched with anger. He pitied the soul that ticked him off today.

_-break-_

Cam had led Sweets to the lounge that overlooked the lab. She forced him to sit on one of the couches before she had started one of the coffee makers. It had been silent the whole time the coffee was brewing.

Sweets sighed and leaned his head against the back of the couch. "I would have been nine when she was born. I would have been living with mom and dad. I could've rescued her before it started."

Cam turned around from the table. "You can't honestly think that Laurence abusing Alison was your fault?"

"No, of course not!" Sweets replied hurriedly. "But if Child Services would have been monitoring Laurence they could have pulled her out of there."

Cam sighed. "You know the system doesn't work like that."

"But it should."

The coffee maker announced that the pot was done. Cam carefully pushed a mug under and watched the dark brown liquid. "How do you like your coffee, Doctor Sweets?"

"Black is fine." He mumbled.

Cam carefully handed the steaming mug to Sweets. He blew over the surface before taking a sip. Cam poured herself a mug before she sat beside Sweets. She placed a hand on Sweets' knee. "Whatever you decide, we'll be here to help. Alright?"

Sweets nodded and took a long swig of coffee. "Legally, since her… our mother is dead and biological father is in custody she goes to the next of kin."

"Which would be you." Cam confirmed.

Sweets rubbed his temple with his free hand. He could feel a headache brewing. Suddenly Sweets' phone rang. "Hello?" He answered.

"Sweets, it's Booth. Did you find out the results of the test yet?" Booth asked.

"Yeah, um we're definitely siblings." He replied.

"Alright." Booth replied. "I have to interview her next. I thought you'd might like to tag along?"

"Isn't she still in the hospital?"

"She's being held there until we pick her up. After the interview though, she'll be handed over to the foster system unless a family member intervenes."

Sweets got the message. "She is _not _going into the foster system."

* * *

><p><em>AN: I'm working on being more descriptive, if you haven't noticed by now. I tried to make Laurence sound as disgusting as I could possibly imagine, but I think the words don't do justice to what I have in my head. Anyways! Hope you enjoyed the chapter and, as always, thanks for all the reviews!_


	7. Questions, Questions

_-*-Present-*-_

It hadn't seemed real before. But when Sweets had said those words, _'I'm your brother.' _Realization had come crashing down on him. Alison looked stunned, but it made sense to her. "You were the one who wrote on the walls in the closet." She whispered and lifted her eyes to meet Sweets'. "It was your stuff in the hidden box."

"Ya." Sweets said thickly. He tried putting his hand on Alison's again. She didn't pull away this time. "I promise I am not going to let anything else happen to you."

Alison bit her lip and nodded.

"Now Agent Booth just has to ask a few more questions and then we'll go get you something to eat." Alison's eyes lit up at the mention of food. Sweets got up and moved his chair to Alison's side. From this point of view he could see the white gauze bandages covering her back in various spots, some old scars, some new welts, and the goose bumps that were raised on her arms and neck.

Alison took a shaky breath. "Alright." She breathed.

_-break-_

"Hmm…" Booth was scanning through a telephone book. "How about Chinese? That's always easy."

Sweets shrugged. "Do you like Chinese?" he asked Alison.

"I've never had it." She replied as she studied the table.

The three were in the conference room of the FBI. Alison was sitting in one of the chairs. She now wore an FBI sweatshirt and sweatpants over her other clothes to keep her warm. Sweets was leaning against one of the glass partitions that separated the conference room from the rest of the floor. Booth was sitting at the head of the table flipping through the yellow pages.

"I know just the thing!" Booth announced as he slapped the book shut. "I'm going to run home and get some _real _food." He looked at Sweets. "And I might even bring Cecilia back with me."

"Really?" Sweets asked excitedly. He had been dying to see the child again. (She was _his _brain child after all. He'd been the one that had been pressing the two for ages. _And _he was Cecilia's godfather. It was a double whammy!)

Booth smiled at Sweets then looked at Alison. "I will be back with the best homemade food you have ever tasted."

Alison smiled slightly as she looked up at the agent. Booth then pushed the door open and slid out. Sweets took a seat at the long table.

"So…" Sweets started with a smile.

Alison just drew circles on the table with her finger.

"You know you're allowed to talk right? You haven't asked a single question the entire time you've been here."

"There are too many questions to know where to start." Alison replied.

"How about I ask you questions then?" Sweets asked.

"Shoot." She replied. Sweets could tell from her body language that she trying really hard not to look excited.

"What kind of classes are you in?"

"Well I started school a year late so I'm going to be 17 in my sophomore year." Alison replied. "But I take all AP classes. I have English, Algebra II and Trig, Bio, American History II, Psychology, and Art II." She answered. Her face had lightened up.

"You're taking psychology? That's awesome!" Sweets replied excitedly.

"Ya, it's pretty interesting." Alison brushed some hair back behind her ear as a slight tint came to her cheeks. No one was ever interested in what she had to say.

"What about sports?" Sweets questioned.

Alison looked back at her shoes. "I've always wanted to play basketball, but… dad told me I was too fat." She looked back up at Sweets. "So he made me run cross country and walk home from school every day after practice."

Sweets frowned. Alison was probably five foot four and 110 pounds. Translation: A toothpick. "That sucks."

"Ya." She replied.

"Listen to me, Alison. Don't believe anything he said to you, alright?"

"I know." Alison agreed. "I've learned to ignore it. I used to take it seriously…" Her eyes darted away as she changed the subject. "What about you? Did you do sports in high school?"

Sweets' face turned red and he laughed nervously. "Well I've never actually told anyone this in great detail, but I tried out for football once so I could fit in. But obviously because I was so small I never made it through try outs. So I tried cross country. That didn't work out well either. I… uh… threw up a couple times." Alison chuckled slightly. "Then I turned to wrestling… I won't even go there. So finally I tried track and field. The first time I tried hurdling I tripped over one of the smallest hurdles and broke my arm. And that was the end of my sports career."

The two chatted lightly. Occasionally there would be an awkward moment, but they'd brush past it and talk about something else. Both of them were eager to find out about the other, but they skirted around more sensitive topics like, 'Why didn't we know about each other sooner?'

"So, Dr. Sweets?"

"Call me Lance. _Please._"

Alison smiled. "Lance."

"Yes, Alison?"

"Am I going to be staying with you now or do I have to go back with dad?" Alison shuffled her feet under the table.

"You're going to stay with me. I don't care if he wants you back or not." Sweets said firmly.

"I'm baaaaaaack." Booth announced as he walked in. "And I brought company!"

Sweets turned around to see Booth carrying a large container of what appeared to be mac and cheese. Behind him was Doctor Brennan who was carefully carrying in a car seat with little baby Booth in it.

"Doctor Brennan!" Sweets greeted happily. He got up and gave the anthropologist a hug.

"Hello, Doctor Sweets." Brennan said with a laugh. After pulling out of Sweets' hug she sat the car seat on the table and gently pulled the baby out. "I take it you would like to hold Cecilia?"

"Of course!" Sweets replied. He held his arms out to take his godchild.

Booth opened the container holding the macaroni and cheese and the aroma soon filled the air. Alison's stomach growled as it hit her. Booth, seeing that Sweets was occupied with talking to Bones, said to Alison, "This is Bones' famous mac and cheese. It's still warm too." He scooped a hefty portion into a bowl and stuck a fork in it. He then slid it in front of her. "Enjoy." He said warmly.

"Thank you, Agent Booth." Alison replied with a smile.

"Booth or Seeley is just fine." He replied and messed up her hair slightly. While Alison was not all too comfortable with being touched she had no problem with this gesture.

Alison smiled and put a fork full of mac and cheese into her mouth. "Mmmm." She moaned with content. She swallowed and said, "This is delicious!"

Brennan beamed. "Why thank you."

"Bones, this is Alison." Booth introduced.

Brennan held out her hand for Alison to shake. Alison did so. "I'm Doctor Temperance Brennan. It's nice to meet you."

"Likewise." Alison said with a smile. "I read part of one of your books once. It was very good."

Brennan was about to say_ 'I know.' _when she decided, "Thank you." would be more appropriate.

Alison simply smiled and put another mouthful of mac and cheese into her mouth.

After Sweets was content with holding the baby they all sat down and ate the mac and cheese together. They chatted for a bit before Booth said that it was time they were heading home. Sweets had hastily agreed when he'd looked down at his watch. It was only five o' clock, but ever since the baby had been born Booth had stuck with his schedule and that meant being home between three and four.

All of this had been a little overwhelming for Alison. She'd gone from eating alone all the time to eating with a lot of people over food that actually tasted good. Sure there was school, but she'd usually not talk and just eat her free lunches.

"Well I guess we'll head home too." Sweets said kindly. "I have to get my things from my office."

Alison nodded and silently followed after the doctor.

* * *

><p><em>AN: So, to explain. The beginning of this happens right after the prologue. That's why it says present at the top. Also, I named the Booth/Brennan baby Cecilia. If they _finally _give her a name I will go back through and change it. As always, thanks for the reviews! 'Till next time! _


	8. Of Beer and Pancakes

It wasn't long until the two were in Sweets' car heading towards his apartment. The car ride was mostly silent. The car stopped at an apartment complex and Sweets led the way to his apartment. He unlocked the door and flipped the lights on. "I guess this is where you'll be staying for the foreseeable future." He said as they walked in. "I apologize for the slight mess. I wasn't exactly expecting company."

The apartment was far from messy. Yes there were stacks of psychology books scattering the floor and some file folders spread out, but other than that the apartment was spotless. The apartment was small, but it had a cozy feeling to it. You walked into the living room. A counter separated the living room from the kitchen. To the left were two doors. One was open and you could see a bedroom through it, but the other was closed.

"Well the bathroom's over there if you want to take a shower." Sweets said and pointed to the right. He scratched the back of his head. "There are actually two bedrooms, but one of them is filled with stuff. So until that gets sorted out you can have my bed and I'll take the couch."

"Lance, you don't have-"

"I will take the couch and you will take the bed. No arguments." Sweets pressed.

Alison smiled slightly and nodded.

"And I'm sure I can find some of Daisy's clothes that are still here for you to wear until we find something else." Sweets started toward his bedroom and covered his yawn with his hand. "Just make yourself at home while I find some things." He called over his shoulder.

Alison walked over to the couch in the living room. She sat down on it and almost moaned. It was so comfortable. Sitting on the coffee table were a few books. She picked one up and started glancing through it.

Sweets was digging through his closet. He rubbed his eyes tiredly. Only sleeping a few hours at the office was really starting to catch up to him. He sighed and pulled out a t-shirt he found. Soon enough he ended up with an assortment of t-shirts and pants. He came out to give them to Alison. "You can try these on if you'd like."

"Well I'd like to get a shower if that's alright." Alison said as she sat the book down and took the pile of clothes from Sweets.

"Go right ahead." Sweets said. He pointed across the room. "The bathroom's right there."

"Thanks." She said and walked off. Alison was really looking forward to a hot shower. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had one of those.

Sweets sat down on his couch and picked up the book he'd been reading lately. He sat the book in his lap and rested his chin in his hand as he began to read.

It took Alison around forty-five minutes to take her shower, replace her bandages on her back, and try on all the clothes Sweets had supplied her with. Finding the comfiest fit she had folded the rest of the clothes into neat piles and put them into a basket that had been in the bathroom. She carried the basket out with her and was about to ask Lance where to put it. He'd fallen asleep reading his book.

Alison had to admit that she was pretty tired too. She walked over to the other side of the couch and curled up on her side so she wouldn't wake Sweets up. She reached over onto the coffee table and grabbed the TV remote. She turned the volume down low.

Alison sighed with content. She could get used to this quite easily.

_-break-_

Sweets jerked awake as his head slid out of his hand. The TV was on which confused him. Alison was in the shower, wasn't she? His brows knitted together as he tried to figure it out. He looked around and nearly jumped when he saw Alison right beside him.

"Morning, Sleeping Beauty." Alison said with a smile. This just confused Sweets even more. "Relax, it's only ten in the PM."

Sweets sighed with relief. It was like one of those times where you wake up in the middle of the night and realize you have to get up early. So you look at the clock and see that you still have six more hours to sleep. "Sorry about that. I didn't mean to fall asleep on you." He apologized.

"It's fine." Alison replied.

Sweets peeled himself off of the couch and walked into his bedroom. He closed the door and quickly changed into a light t-shirt and flannel pants. He threw his suit into the laundry basket and then walked back out into the living room. "Do you want me to change the sheets on the bed or are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Lance." Alison said as she stood up. "I'll tell you if I need something." She walked toward the bedroom.

"Alright." Sweets agreed as she passed. He sank onto the couch. He stretched his long legs out and pulled the blanket down from off the back of the couch.

"Thanks." Alison said as she stopped in the doorway.

"Mmhmm." Sweets mumbled in response. He was already half asleep.

_-break-_

Booth sighed as he sat on the couch. He couldn't deny that he was tired, but his mind wouldn't let him rest. This whole child abuse thing was getting to him. Especially since he had a new child of his own. He knew that Parker knew he wasn't his father, but his little Christi… Booth took a long swig of the beer bottle he was holding.

"She's asleep." Brennan announced as she walked into the room. She sat beside him on the couch. "Are you alright, Booth?"

Booth nodded without really paying attention to the question.

Brennan laid her head on Booth's chest and Booth wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "Is it the case involving Sweets?"

Booth took another swig of his beer before answering with, "Ya."

"We have been over this countless times. You are _not _your father." Brennan replied.

"Thanks, Bones." Booth replied and squeezed her shoulders slightly. "But it's not that this time. It's what this guy did to both Sweets and Alison."

"I've seen Sweets' scars. But it is still unlikely that I know what Alison's look like." Brennan replied. To her knowledge, Sweets had only suffered one severe beating. But if Alison had suffered several over all those years...? She shivered at the thought. "At least she never had to go through foster care."

"Ya, except she had to go through years and years of malnutrition and paranoia." Booth replied.

"Paranoia?"

"Every day she had to watch her own back. Home is the one place you're supposed to feel safe, but for her it was the opposite. And school probably wasn't much of a relief for her either. She wasn't adequately clothed and so the people who were near her probably thought she was just one of those bums who sat around and lived off of welfare."

"What does clothing have to do with how other people treat you?" Brennan asked.

"You obviously never had to deal with not having good clothing then." Booth replied.

"Sometimes. I had a foster parent once that only supplied me with all black clothing. People therefore dubbed me as a Goth even though I was the exact opposite."

"Weren't you the one that hid out in that creepy janitor's office and played with dead things?" Booth asked.

"I don't see how that has to do with being Goth."

"Never mind." Booth replied. He sighed and closed his eyes.

"Are you sure you're alright, Booth?" Brennan asked as she looked up.

"I don't know, Bones. This case is just hitting a soft spot."

"There are lots of soft spots on your body where there is merely muscle and no bone to make it hard to the touch. So it is very likely for something to be hitting a soft spot." Brennan replied.

"It was a metaphor." Booth replied as he took the final swig of his beer.

"I find that a very annoying and anatomically incorrect metaphor." Brennan commented.

Booth chuckled lightly and kissed the top of Brennan's head.

_-break-_

It was morning and Sweets woke up to the smell of pancakes. He rubbed his eyes blearily and swung his legs off of the couch. He looked over at the kitchen to see Alison standing there. "Please don't tell me you're a morning person." Sweets groaned.

"Sorry." Alison replied with a smile. "I made pancakes, I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all." Sweets replied as he rubbed his eyes again.

"Would you like one?" Alison asked.

"Gimme a minute." Sweets replied still a bit groggy. Why must he be cursed with a morning person living in his house? Yes, he was usually quite the optimist. That was after he had a shower and breakfast though. He stood up and bent backwards slightly to crack his back. "I'm going to get a shower and then I'll be out."

"Alright." Alison replied and then stuffed a syrup soaked piece of pancake into her mouth.

About twenty minutes later Sweets came back out in green button up, black pants, and an orange tie that was draped around his shoulders. "Did you sleep well last night?" Sweets asked cheerily as he scooped three pancakes off of the stack Alison had made.

"Awesome-ly." Alison replied.

"Awesome." Sweets replied. He then looked at Alison's pancake closer. "Did you-?"

"Put chocolate syrup on my pancake? Yes. I was surprised you had any. I pegged you as the strawberry syrup type of person." Alison said as she ate the last bite of her pancake. She grabbed the bottle of chocolate syrup from the counter. "Would you like to try?"

"No thanks." Sweets said with a chuckle. He did, however, drown his pancakes in syrup.

"So… um, Lance?" Alison asked shyly. She stared at her plate and played with the leftover syrup on her plate with her fork.

"Yes, Alison?"

"Um… You wouldn't happen to have anything to cover this up with, would you?" Alison motioned to the bruises on her neck that were now turning an ugly green. The bruise on her face was also turning green.

Sweets swallowed his bit of pancake. "It won't be a problem to find something for your neck. And we can stop somewhere so you can buy make-up or something for your face." He understood completely and was more than ready to help her anyway he could.

Alison nodded. "Thanks."

A couple awakwardly silent minutes passed.

"So I have to work today." Sweets stated nonchalantly. "So what I was thinking was that you could hang out at the Jeffersonian for the day."

Alison dropped her fork. "Say what now?"

* * *

><p><em>AN: And lo! The next chapter has been delivered! :D Hope you guys enjoy!_

_Pauline07: Weird thing is that I was totally going to name her that then changed it to Cecilia. XD I knew her name had been leaked, but was waiting for it to officially come out before I put it in my story._


	9. Meet and Greet

Sweets was walking into the Jeffersonian with Alison not too far behind. They were almost to the sliding glass doors that led to the Medico-Legal Lab. "I'm sure it'll be fine to stay here as long as you're not on the forensic platform."

"Alright." Alison replied. She was really not looking forward to spending a day with strangers, but it was better than being forced to go to a school where she didn't know anyone.

"I'll introduce you to Cam first to see if it's alright for you to stay and then I can take you around to meet the others." Sweets said. "I'll be back later after I get an update on the case from Booth. I don't have any other appointments today so we'll just head over to my office and you can chillax on my super comfy couch."

Alison was reminded of an ADD four-year-old as Sweets talked.

"Doctor Saroyan?" Sweets asked as he peeked his head in the door.

Cam looked up from her desk. "Yes, Doctor Sweets?"

Sweets stepped into the office and Alison stood behind him, almost as if she were hiding. "This is Alison." He introduced.

Cam's jaw almost dropped open as she took in the similarities between the two. She stood up from her desk. "Nice to meet you, Alison." She greeted warmly. She held her hand out to shake Alison's. Alison stepped out from behind Sweets to shake her hand. "I'm Doctor Camille Saroyan, but you can just call me Cam. I'm in charge of the Medico-Legal Lab."

Alison smiled, but didn't say anything.

"Would it be alright if she could hang out here while I'm out with Booth?" Sweets asked.

"Absolutely." Cam replied quickly with a smile. "As long as you're with one of the staff I have no problem with it."

"Thank you so much." Sweets replied.

"No problem." Cam answered. "And, by the way, Mr. Fisher and Mr. Bray were looking at the skeleton and have some information for you."

"Alright." Sweets said and started to lead Alison out. "Thanks!" he called over his shoulder.

Cam sighed as the two walked out. She'd dealt with victims of abuse from her cop days. Alison was a prime example of the behavioral indicators.

Sweets strolled into the next closest office. He found Dr. Jack Hodgins peering into a microscope. "Hey, Hodgins." Sweets greeted.

"Oh hey, Sweets." Hodgins said and looked up from his microscope. His gaze went from Sweets to the girl behind him. For a second he thought that maybe Sweets had finally realized Daisy was just a chatterbox and moved on. Then he saw how similar the two looked. "And who is this?"

Before Sweets could say, _'This is Alison' _again she spoke up for herself. "I'm Alison." She said.

"She's… uh… my sister." It felt weird on his tongue.

Hodgins' eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. "You never told me you had a sister!" He jumped up from the table he was at.

"I didn't know I had one." Sweets mumbled.

Hodgins hadn't heard Sweets. "I'm Jack Hodgins. Nice to meet you."

Alison simply shook his hand. She then quickly retreated back to Sweets' side.

"Alison is going to be hanging out here today while I'm out and about with Agent Booth." Sweets explained. "I'm going to take her over to Angela's office and get those two acquainted."

"Well if she likes art, music, or computers I'm sure they'll get along fine." Hodgins replied. "Or if you're not the average teenage girl you could come over here and I'll introduce you to the wonderful world of bugs and slime." Hodgins saw Alison's eyes light up.

"Well she has all day so I'm sure there's time for both." Sweets said with a smile. He then slipped out of the door. Soon enough they were in Angela's office.

"Hey, Sweets." Angela greeted as she saw him come around the corner.

"Hi, Angela." Sweets replied. He then motioned toward his sister. "This is Alison. She's going to chilling here for the day."

"Alright, I'm sure I can find work for her to do." Angela teased and smiled widely. She glanced between the two. "Wait! Let me guess." She put a finger on her chin and studied them a bit harder. "Cousins." She decided.

"Close." Sweets said with a dimpled smile. "Siblings."

Angela's eyes widened. "Sweets! You seem to have been keeping information from us!"

"Well we kind of only found out about it yesterday." Sweets said with a shrug. "I'm surprised the story wasn't spread around by now."

"Oh." Angela said. A look of surprise was on her face. "Well I am too. I mean I knew that the skeleton was your biological mother, but…" Angela stopped as she saw the look on Alison's face.

"Mom's dead?" She squeaked out.

"Um… Yeah…" Sweet scrambled for words. "I-I thought you knew."

"She left two weeks ago." Alison said as she studied her shoes. "I thought she just went back to the circus."

"Your mom works at the circus?" Angela asked incredulously. Man, this kid was full of surprises today. Next he was going to say she was-

"She's a psychic." Sweets answered quickly.

Wham. Surprise number 3.

"Did she float back and forth a lot?" Sweets asked Alison.

Alison nodded. "She never mentioned you though."

"She never mentioned you either." Sweets replied.

Surprise number 4: Sweets tracking down his biological mother. When was this? Angela started to realize how much she didn't know about the psychologist. There was an awkward silence. "Well I guess I should probably introduce myself now that you're done dropping bombs on me." She said to Sweets. She then turned to Alison. "I'm Angela Montenegro. I do facial reconstructions."

Alison tilted her head to the side. "Facial reconstructions?"

"How about I show you while Sweets does his thing?" Angela offered.

'Thanks.' He mouthed to Angela. "Have fun." He said before leaving the office. He started to walk onto the forensic platform and the alarms started going off. He held his hands up. "Sorry!" he called out. Wendell rushed down and swiped his card. The alarms instantly stopped. Sweets lowered his arms back to his sides.

"You don't have one of these?" Wendell asked curiously.

"Nope." Sweets replied as he followed Wendell up the steps. "Uh Cam said you have some new information?"

"Oh ya, we found particulates in the wounds that we sent over to Hodgins." Wendell answered as he walked over to the body. Sweets shifted uncomfortably as he stood beside the table with his mother's skeleton on it.

"The wound was caused by a sharp object, most likely a knife." Fisher said from where the x-rays were being laid out. "There's an awkward angle to the nicks in the bone, though and we're not sure how exactly they would have been carried out."

"There are twelve stab wounds to the chest." Wendell said and held up a rib to show Sweets one of the twelve.

"Actually there are thirteen. I found a very small knick on the xiphoid process." Fisher said and pointed to the tip of the sternum. Wendell squinted at the x-ray.

"Wow. Nice job, Fisher." Wendell complimented.

"Why thank you." Fisher replied. "I think living with my mom is really starting to take effect." He gave a forced smile.

Wendell resisted the urge to roll his eyes and looked back over to see Sweets looking kind of pale. "You alright?" He asked.

"Hmm? Oh ya I'm fine." Sweets rushed.

"Oh, dude, that's his mom." Fisher said.

Wendell looked from the skeleton to Sweets. "That's your _mom_? Aw, man, I am _so _sorry."

"What is it with the lack of communication in this Institute?" Sweets asked as he threw his hands in the air. He was tired of having the same conversations over and over again. "The body came in the day before yesterday and I found out I had a sister yesterday and no one seems to know this!"

"You have a sister?" Fisher and Wendell asked in synch.

Sweets wiped a hand down his face. "Yes. I have a sister." He answered calmly. He started walking away and threw his hands up in exasperation. "And my mother's a travelling psychic with the circus! Who knew?"

Wendell and Fisher exchanged confused looks. "I didn't even tell him the new information yet." Wendell commented. Fisher simply shrugged.

Meanwhile Alison was sitting on Angela's couch. She had her knees pulled up to her chest. Angela was sitting beside her. Alison was watching Angela's tablet in fascination. "You can do that with any skull?" She asked.

"Yep." Angela confirmed. "Some can be a bit tricky, but once Brennan pieces them together I usually don't have a problem."

"That's cool." Alison said with a smile.

"So what about you? What do you like to do?" Angela asked.

"Me?" Alison asked with surprise. She wasn't used to people asking her questions yet. "Um… Well I like drawing." She laughed sheepishly as she added, "I like playing basketball a lot too."

"Well that's cool." Angela replied. She clicked something on the main screen of the tablet and then held it out for Alison to take. "Why don't you draw on this while I go check on something?"

"Sure." Alison replied and gently took the tablet.

Angela intended on walking out to the forensic platform and asking for the x-rays of the chest so that she could run it through her programs, but she found herself in Hodgins' office.

"What is the matter with this child?" She asked as she walked in. She spoke quietly so she wouldn't be overheard, but her voice was still demanding.

"What child?" Hodgins asked as he looked up from his computer screen.

"Alison." Angela replied. "She acts like the slightest touch is going to feel like a bee sting, she jumps at the slightest sound or sudden movement, and she is way too skinny, even for her age." She placed a hand on her hip as she waited for Hodgins' answer.

Hodgins shrugged. "I don't know. All I was told was that she was Sweets' sister."

"Ya." Angela huffed. She told him about all the surprises Sweets' had dumped on her.

"They found out yesterday?" Hodgins asked.

"Apparently." Angela replied.

Hodgins got up from his seat. "Let's go ask Cam." He had to admit that he was quite curious. What was the mystery behind this _sister _who just popped out of nowhere? The married couple was soon standing in Cam's office.

"Yes?" Cam asked as she spun her chair around to face them.

"What's the deal here?" Hodgins asked.

To clarify Angela added, "With Alison."

"Well Sweets asked me if-"

"No, no, no." Hodgins hurriedly interrupted. "Why is she so skittish?"

Cam looked at the two for a moment to see if they were joking. "You don't know?"

"No. That would be why we were asking, Cam." Angela replied sarcastically.

Cam sighed as she recalled the details Booth had told her when he'd come in to check on their progress. "When they raided Sweets' biological father's house they found Alison locked in a closet with wounds on her back that resembled a whip." Angela gasped and put a hand to her mouth. "That's not the worst part." Hodgins bit his lower lip in preparation. "They found Sweets the exact same way when he was four."

"What?" Hodgins asked disbelievingly. Well. There was surprise number 5. Angela kept her hand pressed to her mouth.

"I'm not done." Cam replied. Her gaze was hard. She didn't want them to see the emotions this stirred inside of her. "Sweets was the one that found Alison in the closet, the closet that used to be _his _when he lived there. He pretty much had a panic attack after him and Booth had to carry Alison down to the paramedics. Then he insisted on going back up to his room and he found a box full of all his childhood possessions."

"Please tell me Booth locked this guy up." Angela replied.

"He only arrested him for assaulting a federal officer so that he could keep him pent up for a while." Cam said. "But Booth thinks he killed our victim. He's just gathering enough evidence to be able to convict."

"How could someone do that to a child? _Twice?_" Angela asked.

Hodgins shrugged. Just the thought made him cringe. His fatherly instincts made him want to take this guy into a dark alley and beat him with a lead pipe.

"Well where is Alison staying?" Angela asked.

"With Sweets." Cam replied. "Legally she has to go with the next of kin because her father's in custody."

"Does she have _anything_?" Angela asked.

Cam shrugged. "I didn't interrogate Sweets when he walked in. I'm sure they're both very overwhelmed with the whole situation."

"I am taking that poor girl shopping." Angela said and stormed out of the room.

Cam and Hodgins were left stunned. "I hope she doesn't have my credit card." Hodgins suddenly groaned.

This was not acceptable. Angela's motherly instincts had taken over. This girl had to be clothed, fed, and have accurate supplies. It wasn't that she didn't trust Sweets. It was just that she didn't trust him buying things for a teenage girl. She walked into her office to find Alison contently drawing on the tablet.

"Sweetie, I'm taking you shopping." She announced as she walked in.

"What?" Alison asked as she looked up. A shocked look was on her face.

"You need clothes. Not just whatever Sweets has at his apartment. And if you're staying with him you're going to need lots of other things too." Angela replied sternly. "And it's freezing outside. You need a coat… and shoes."

"But… I… That's a lot of money." Alison replied. "You don't need to spend all of that on me."

"Yes I do. And don't worry; my husband is the sole heir to the Cantilever Group."

With that said Angela lead Alison out to her minivan.

* * *

><p><em>AN: So there's an explanation for having such a long chapter. XD I feel like the fic is kind of in a lull and I'm trying to get out of it as quickly as possible. I **promise **more action will be coming soon. Just be patient, my young padawans. You have much to learn._


	10. Every Little Detail

_**Warning: **I'm testing the waters for a Sweets/Shaw pairing in this chapter. XD Let me know if it works or not because I have an even better scene planned for later if people like it._

* * *

><p>Sweets had retreated to the FBI building once he was finished with the Jeffersonian. He was slightly annoyed. Everyone wanted to know about what had happened. Every. Little. Detail. Why couldn't they just talk among themselves? The lack of communication in that place was atrocious. What if <em>he <em>didn't want to remember what happened? What if he just wanted to accept the fact that he had to take care of Alison now and move on?

And why did people think it was a big deal that his biological mother had died? She'd never been involved in his life. The only time he'd had interaction with her besides his own birth was when he'd tracked her down to the circus.

Her words suddenly struck him with full force. _'You have a dark future ahead, Lance. Death intermingles with your path. Be careful of who you trust.'_

Sweets gulped as he remembered what he'd said to her next. _'What about a family? Will I ever have one of my own?'_

_A broad smile grew across her face. 'Of course you will, Lance. But it will start in the most unexpected way.'_

It made sense now. She _knew _about Alison! She had just made up a whole slew of balderdash and spat it at him. Anger suddenly surged through Lance. His fists clenched and he had the overpowering urge to kick something. He took a few deep breaths though and pushed his anger down. Now was not the time.

The stress was also finally setting in. He realized how much work he'd have to do to be able to keep Alison. First of all he'd have to go out and buy some clothes for her. She couldn't wear Daisy's things for forever. And honestly, he wasn't sure if he had enough money to go on a mass shopping spree. And what happened if Laurence got out of jail? LegallyAlison would have to go back with him. He'd have to take the issue to court and press for custody of her. He was _not _letting her go back to that place. Not with him. And he would not let her go into foster care either. He'd had enough experience with it to develop a hatred.

Then there was school. He sighed heavily. So much paperwork went into school these days. He'd have to call her old school and get all of her files transferred. He'd have to find what school district they lived in and see what schools were available. Then he'd probably have to wrestle with them to get Alison into the school in the first place. It was probably after the first quarter. Did they even accept students that time of year?

Sweets suddenly found himself at his office door. He didn't remember getting there, but here he was. He dug his key out of his pocket and unlocked the door. He flipped the lights on and then walked back to his desk. He dropped his briefcase on the desk and slipped his coat onto the back of his chair. He then reached into a jar that was on his desk. It was full of stress toys. He picked out the first one he touched. He started squeezing the foam ball.

Then he wondered if Booth was coming up to his office or if he was going down to Booth's office. It was most likely the latter. Sweets picked up his phone and called Booth's extension. Sweets frowned and hung up as he got an answering machine. He glanced at the clock. He knew Booth had been coming in late sometimes because of his new parental duties, but today was not the day to be late. Sweets wanted to be distracted from the thoughts in his head and talking about something else was probably the only way to do that.

He spun his chair around and started bouncing his stress ball against the wall and then catching it. Bounce. Catch. Bounce. Catch. _'You deserved it!' _Bounce. _'I was four!' _Catch. Bounce. _'Prove it.' _Catch. _'I'm your brother.' _BOUNCE. The ball went sailing over Sweets' shoulder and hit the container full of stress toys. It fell off of his desk in a clatter and exploded its contents everywhere.

Sweets pounded his head off of the desk.

It was at this moment that Booth walked into Sweets' office. "Woah there, Sweets. Don't have a temper tantrum."

Sweets looked up from his desk and his face got really red. "Agent Booth!"

"No need to explain, Sweets. I understand that children have temper tantrums sometimes." Booth said as he walked over with his hands up. He sat down heavily on the couch.

"But-"  
>"Go on, pick up your toys. When you're done we'll talk."<p>

Sweets huffed. Of all the times for Booth to walk in. He grudgingly pushed himself up and walked around his desk. He picked the can up right and started putting the various object back into it. He picked up a squishy duck and put it in the can. Booth liked the irony. Of course it was irony that Sweets wouldn't understand. All of a sudden Sweets slammed the lid back on the can.

"I can't take this anymore!"

Booth nearly jumped. He'd never heard the psychologist's voice this loud outside of the shooting range.

Sweets stood up and dropped the can back on the desk. "Everyone keeps asking me what happened and it keeps dredging up these feelings from like the depths of my soul. Things that I haven't remembered in years! And they just keep asking and asking and asking! And _no one _asks Alison. Why? Because they know it will bring up hard feelings and emotions! Don't they realize it's doing the same thing to me? It doesn't matter that it happened twenty years ago! It still feels like yesterday!" Sweets huffed and then dropped into his office chair. "Maybe I'm just overreacting." He mumbled. He bit his lower lip as it started to tremble. His eyes were glassy also.

Booth sat forward on his couch. "You know I'm not the psychologist here, but I think what you're experiencing is completely normal."

Sweets scrutinized Booth a little more closely. "Why?"

"Well, you know…" Booth tried to dodge as he realized he'd fallen into a trap. He looked back at the door to make sure it was closed before he looked back at Sweets. "It's doing the same thing to me, Sweets."

Sweets nodded grimly.

"Now, about the case." Booth said as he quickly switched the subject. "The Squints at the Jeffersonian are saying that the victim was stabbed twelve times."

"Thirteen." Sweets corrected.

"Whatever." Booth brushed off. "And they said that the weapon was most likely just any knife you find in any kitchen. So what I was thinking was he could take all of the knives that were collected from the Shankle's house and take them to the Jeffersonian." Booth flipped open his file folder. "Also they found trace amounts of some methamphetamine on her clothing. If we match that drug to whoever deals with Laurence then we've got something else to pin on him."

"I guess that'll work." Sweets replied.

Booth shrugged. "I know I don't have any shrinky stuff at the moment, but I just want to keep you informed. You know just because of how close you are to the case." He couldn't seem to find the right words. He didn't want to blatantly say, _'I'm keeping you informed because you're abusive dad is the main suspect.'_, but he didn't want to put it through the fluff machine too much either.

"Ya." Sweets replied. He couldn't help the rotten mood that had come over him. All of these emotions just wanted to spill out at once and all it was doing was giving him a headache.

"I'll let you know when I need a profile on the drug dealer. You can come interview him."

"Being a bit optimistic aren't we?" Sweets asked.

"Nope. Because I'm going to have Agent Shaw lure him out." Booth said with a wink. "Why don't you call her and let her know I'm coming down?"

Sweets turned red. "Agent Booth!" he protested.

"Come on, Sweets. You know you want to." Booth disappeared out the door.

"Great." Sweets groaned. He felt so stupid. He wasn't in a relationship with Daisy anymore (Okay, so Daisy and him enjoyed each other's company… a lot.) so why did he feel so guilty about thinking another woman was attractive? _And _she knew how to handle a gun. Talk about fantasies.

Sweets pounded his head off the desk as soon as the thought went through his mind. He picked up the phone and dialed the number for the bullpen. Someone quickly answered. "Could I talk with Special Agent Genny Shaw?" He asked carefully.

There was a click as the line was transferred. "Shaw." She answered quickly.

Sweets cleared his throat. "Hi, Agent Shaw. This is Doctor Sweets." He introduced.

"Well hi there, Doctor Sweets! Is there something you need?" She replied.

Sweets was so glad this was over the phone. His face had turned a crimson red. "Uh, yes. Booth just wanted me to let you know that he has an assignment in the field for you. He was heading down to the bull pen to find you just a few minutes ago."

"Alright." Genny replied. She was sitting at her desk holding her phone against her head with her shoulder while she scrolled through her computer screen with her left hand and scribbled stuff down on a notepad with her right hand. She was actually quite busy at the moment, but she didn't mind talking to Sweets. He was so, well, sweet and she always had the urge to pinch his cute little dimpled cheeks every time she saw him smile. He just seemed like a cute little lost puppy to her. He was always following loyally behind Agent Booth. "Well what's the field assignment for? Is it something I need to research?"

"Um, it's an undercover assignment. He needs to find a drug dealer." Sweets replied.

"That shouldn't be too hard. Will Agent Booth be bringing me the details?"

"I think so." Sweets replied. He was mentally slamming his head off of a brick wall. He _thought _so? He _knew _so. Why couldn't he talk around this woman?

"Oh, I see him now. I'll talk to you later, Sweets. Maybe we could catch lunch some time?" Shaw suggested.

"Absolutely." Sweets answered a little too quickly. "I mean it would be nice to-"

Shaw chuckled at his flustered tone. "Bye, Doctor Sweets." She hung up.

"Ya… Bye." Sweets replied and then hung up the phone. "I am so stupid." He groaned aloud. He felt like he was in high school all over again. And the burning sensation he could feel growing across his cheeks didn't help him either.

"Agent Booth," Shaw said as she stood. She was all business now. Her demeanor had changed from light and joking to serious in the flip of a switch. "Sweets told me you have an undercover assignment for me?"

"Ya," Booth replied. He eyed the serious agent in front of him and then studied the desk behind her. It was covered in colorful items and some picture frames. He even spotted a bobble head hula dancer complete with skirt and coconut bra. He held out a file for her to take. "All the information you'll need is here. Judging from what the neighborhood looked like while I was down there, I don't think you'll have a problem finding the dealer. I would do it, but I've already been down there and they know who I am."

"Got ya." Shaw replied. She opened the folder. "This is Sweets' case right?" She asked.

"How'd you…?"

"Well, sir, Sweets is always in a happy mood and today when I said hello to him this morning he didn't respond. So I figured something was up…sir." She added the ending quickly.

"Uh huh." Booth said. He started walking away backwards and pointed his fingers from his eyes to Genny making an '_I'm watching you.'_ motion. He laughed evilly inside his head. He loved setting those two up. "We'll have a meeting later when you're ready. Call me."

"Yes, sir!" Shaw really hoped he was joking about the watching part. She quickly grabbed her car keys and strapped her gun onto her belt. She'd have to go home and get in the proper attire. She'd also have to get a surveillance team ready so that she wasn't out there all alone. Then she had a thought. "Agent Booth!" she called.

"Yes, Agent Shaw?" Booth called as he hit the elevator button.

Shaw jogged up to him. "You know I haven't been on the job very long, right? All I've been doing is surveillance."

"I know." Booth replied casually.

"I just wanted to let you know that I put you down as my requested mentor for field training. If you'd be willing to do it, sir." Shaw replied.

"What do you think I'm doing? A good mentor throws you in head first." The elevator doors pinged opened and Booth disappeared inside.

Shaw couldn't help a feeling of pride and accomplishment wash over her as she headed back over to her desk to collect a few more things. Special Agent Seeley Booth was her mentor!


	11. Set Up

_A/N: There's another Sweets/Shaw scene in here. Just to give you a heads up. ;)_

* * *

><p>"So are you the colorful type or the all black type? Or maybe you're the black shirt and bright colored pants type?" Angela asked. They had arrived at the mall and were currently strolling casually down the hall. A water fountain, cheesy music, and other people's voices echoing off the walls were the only sounds.<p>

Alison had fully accepted that no amount of talk was going to get Angela out of this. So now that she had accepted the idea she was actually kind of excited. She'd never been shopping before. All of the clothes she had had been given to her by organizations that hosted clothing drives or churches that did donations. At first she'd been worried that the mall would be crowded. (She had to admit that she was a bit claustrophobic.) But it turned out that since it was during school hours there were barely any people there.

Alison shrugged. "I like anything really."

"Oh come on, you have to have a favorite combination." Angela replied. She took a look over Alison again. "How about we just get some of everything? That way you will have a nice wardrobe so you can pick and choose."

"Sounds good to me." Alison replied.

Angela sighed. This girl was so go-with-the-flow that it kind of bothered her. She needed to pick something on her own! "How about we go in here first?" It was a DEB store.

"Sure." Alison agreed. "But I think we should go over there next." She pointed to a store across the hall. Hot Topic.

Angela decided right then that she loved this girl.

The duo walked into DEB and started going through the aisles. "What are you? A size 0?" Angela asked as she started searching through the pants.

"Size 3 actually." Alison replied.

Angela huffed. She wished she were that skinny again. Of course having kids did that to you. No, she wasn't saying that she was fat. Just that she wished her hips would fit into skinny clothing again.

Alison rounded a corner and was suddenly hit with something. A rack fell down and she fell backwards landing flat on her butt.

"Oh my gosh, I am _so_ sorry." Someone said quickly. Alison looked in front of her to see a boy lying flat on his stomach. "Are you alright?" he asked as he stood up and held his hand out to help Alison up.

"Oh ya, I'm fine. Are you okay?" Alison asked. She took the boy's hand and a blush crept over her face. The boy's face was pure scarlet too.

"Pssh ya, I'm perfectly fine. That clothing rack just kind of attacked my foot." He was tall, probably six feet, and was a complete beanpole. He had brown hair that was tightly curled and his eyes were a shade of green. He bent over and picked the rack up without paying attention to what had been on it.

Meanwhile Angela was pretending not to listen or watch from her position behind a clothes rack.

Alison's gaze went down to what he was holding. Her eyebrow lifted. "Shopping for your girlfriend?"

His face turned a deeper red as he looked down and realized he'd crashed into the bra rack and was holding a bright red bra that was line with black fur. "Nah, it's for me. I'm a drag queen. Can't you tell?" The boy struck a pose. Alison laughed. She couldn't remember the last time she'd laughed. "I'm Daniel Blaze." He held out a hand after he put the bra back on the rack.

"Alison Shankle." She shook his hand. "Shouldn't you be in school?"

"Shouldn't _you _be in school?" Daniel shot back.

Alison smiled. "But you see I'm in a girl store."

Daniel smiled. "Well I'm glad I came into a girl store."

"Me too." Alison replied as she shuffled one of her feet.

"Look me up on Facebook." Daniel said as he walked away. "Daniel Blaze."

"Okay." Alison replied. She waved a quick goodbye, blushed, and then turned back to Angela.

Angela was holding a thumbs up.

"Oh shush." Alison replied.

"Alison! You just had an extremely hot man tell you to look him up on Facebook!" She held up a hand for Alison to high five.

Alison laughed again as she high fived Angela. "But I don't have a Facebook."

"Alison. You are _getting _a Facebook." Angela replied. Then she picked a couple pairs of pants out and draped them over her arm.

Alison had never really liked the idea of Facebook. It just seemed like a stalker's Christmas gift to her. Maybe she was just being paranoid though. Alison sighed and looked back over in the direction that Daniel had disappeared in. Daniel was walking towards the exit. He glanced over his shoulder and saw her looking his way. He waved. While he was distracted he ran straight into one of the mannequins at the front of the store. Alison about died of laughter.

Yep. She was getting a Facebook.

The day passed quickly for Alison and Angela. Alison was having a grand time. Angela was glad the girl was smiling. The first time she'd seen her smile had been when that boy had shown up though. Ironically, Mr. Daniel Blaze had shown up a few more times throughout the day. Angela crossed her fingers and hoped Sweets had internet. Alison needed something. She needed to start a new life and get away from the old one. She knew how that went. That was part of the reason why she'd changed her name to Angela Pearlygates Montenegro. The other reason was because her original name was awful. Take Renesme Carlie Cullen and combine it with Albus Severus Potter. It was worse than that.

Currently Alison and Angela were sitting in the food court. Alison was eating a decent sized hamburger. Angela had a salad with Italian dressing. Beside them were several bags of clothing. "Now that we're done with clothing we'll head over to Wal-Mart or something and get things like shampoo and such." Angela said.

"Thanks, Angela." Alison said.

"Don't mention it, Sweetie. It was the least I could do. I feel so bad for you and Sweets."

"At least life goes on." Alison replied. "I really hope I can stay with Lance."

"I'm sure Sweets will do anything to keep you here. Even if that means chopping off an arm and a leg."

Alison smiled slightly and picked up a French fry. "You know, it's been a while since I've had a warm French fry."

Angela nearly choked on her salad. "What? You eat your French fries _cold_?"

"It wasn't my choice." Alison replied with a shrug. "My dad would spend his welfare check on drugs and alcohol. We didn't have electricity or heat a lot of the time." She said it as if it were normal. It was like she thought every family in America went without electricity or heat on occasion.

"Well Sweets has a decent paying job so I'm sure you won't have to worry about that." Angela replied.

"I know." Alison replied and flipped her hair over her shoulders.

It was quiet for a little bit. "So what do you think of this mysterious Daniel Blaze that keeps just so happening to pop up everywhere we go?"

Alison's cheeks turned red. "Well he's cute."

"Hot." Angela corrected.

Alison rolled her eyes. "He's funny. But he seems a bit clumsy."

"Just a bit." Angela agreed with a hint of sarcasm.

"I like him." Alison said with a shrug.

"Are you going to get a Facebook now?" Angela pressed.

Alison reddened a little bit more. "Maybe."

"You totally are!" Angela replied. "I knew it. I mean how can it be a coincidence that you just so happen to be at a store two hours from where you lived a couple days ago and just so happen to run into an extremely hot guy? It's fate, Sweetie. You've had experience with psychics, I hope you believe in fate."

"I do." Alison replied.

"Good." Angela answered back with a smile.

_-break-_

Sweets needed some air. This office was beginning to suffocate him. He'd started on his large stack of profiles that had been building up on his desk. He'd gotten about a third of the way through them before his mind had started to drift. He was kind of worried about Alison. He wasn't worried about her safety, just how she was getting along with everyone. Sweets had noticed that she'd been extremely shy when being introduced to everyone. He knew that she wasn't, but knew that extreme shyness was a sign of physical abuse. He himself had done this when he'd been bounced around in the foster system. Even after he'd been adopted by his parents, the Sweets', he'd still been a tad shy. He soon grew out of it though when his father encouraged him to be outgoing and talk to people.

And that's when he decided he needed a walk to clear his head. All of this was just so confusing to him right now. Maybe when he looked back in a couple years he'd see the whole picture, but right now it was like he was looking at one tile on a big mosaic.

He quickly brushed past the people in the busy hallways and made his way to the elevator. His feet carried him out through the lobby and to the cold air outside. It really was getting colder. There was a light dusting of snow on the ground and Sweets could see the flurries themselves falling from the sky. He smiled up at the sky. He loved snow. He loved ice skating, hot chocolate, fireplaces, and Christmas. All of these were associated closely with the cold crystalized precipitation.

Then Sweets just walked. He didn't really know where he was going, but he realized he hadn't taken a lunch break today and it was nearly three o' clock. He walked down the busy streets and saw the people swarm pass him. The DC streets were quite busy. He carefully picked his way down the street and turned into the first door he saw that had anything to do with food.

He ended up in a sushi bar. There were a few people sitting in some two seating tables and one man at the counter that was reading a newspaper. He took a seat at the counter and waited for a server. The Japanese woman handed him a menu. "Welcome to Yuki's Sushi Bar. Today's special is Sashimi Hamachi. Can I start you off with a drink?" She asked in perfect English. Sweets usually wasn't stereotypical, but he'd been expecting one of those people who barely spoke a word of English.

"Um… Ya, could I just have water?" Sweets asked.

"Of course. I'll be right back with that." She answered and walked off.

Sweets sighed and opened the menu. He sat quietly when he heard the bell ring as the door opened. Sweets glanced back at the door, back at his menu, and then back at the door. "Agent Shaw?" Sweets asked incredulously as he spun around on his stool.

Special Agent Genevieve Shaw was dressed in a small, tight green dress. Slung over her shoulder was a silver purse. Her long brown hair had been curled and was hanging over her slender frame in layers upon layers of small tight curls. Her eyes were accented beautifully with brown eye shadow and heavy mascara. Pink lipstick shined brightly from her face. And Sweets swore he saw a light dusting of glitter on her face. His eye travelled down from her face to her luscious curves and finally to her silver high heels.

Shaw swayed her hips as she walked over to sit on the bar stool beside him. She crossed her legs over top of each other and leaned forward. She reached over and pulled on Sweets' tie. "The name's Genny." She said. She batted her eyelashes.

Sweets' face turned red and he shifted uncomfortably. "What are you doing here?"

"I was just leaving when I saw you walk into this nice little place. Thought I might drop by." She laughed and released Sweets' tie. She returned to her normal self. "In all seriousness, I just wanted to let you know that I'm very sorry about what happened to you the past couple days and I'm going to try my best to catch this dealer so that you can get the evidence you need."

"Thank you." Sweets replied. "You look beautiful, by the way. I just-"

"Shhh." Shaw said and put her finger on Sweets' lips to quiet him. "Who knows who's listening?"

"Right." Sweets said. He assumed she was talking about the probable wire that she was wearing and that it could be turned on at any moment, but he felt like she was trying to say something else to.

"But thanks for the compliment." She winked at him.

Sweets tried to calm himself down. _'Stop it!' _He yelled at himself. _'She's about to leave for a case, you can't distract her!'_

"Well, Miss Genny, I think you're in the wrong part of town." Sweets replied as he straightened out his jacket.

"Am I?" Shaw asked.

"Well I'm sure you already have a client today. Of course, I am a Jedi so I could just use my mind tricks to make you stay."Sweets was shocked the words even slipped out of his mouth. He was a stupid, _stupid _man. Why couldn't he talk to this woman? He could talk to Daisy perfectly fine! And every other woman that walked through his office doors! He could even talk to Angela for Pete's sake! He blamed it on the fact that she was wearing a very _very _tight dress and decided that after Genny left he was going to bash his head off of a brick wall.

"Sorry, Mister, but I've got someone booked tonight." She replied and placed her hands on his knees. Sweets inhaled sharply. Agent Shaw carefully got off of her stool and pulled on Lance's tie as she left. "Call me sometime."

"Good luck." Sweets called. He stared at the door for a while watching Genny walk out. He sighed.

"Lucky guy." Someone said from a couple stools over.

"Ya." Sweets sighed dreamily.

Sweets suddenly got hit in the head with one of the menus. "Ow!" he complained and spun around.

"It's me you idiot!"

Sweets got pale and red at the same time. "A-Agent Booth!" he stuttered.

"Ah," Booth sighed with content. A smile was plastered over his face. "I love set ups." In front of him was a newspaper he had been holding up to cover up his face. "She is a really good Agent though. I told her to meet me here when she was ready." He shrugged as if that's what he did with all of his agents.

Sweets _really_ wanted to bash his head off of a wall now. "Do you enjoy this, Agent Booth? Do you enjoy constantly making me feel like an idiot?"

"Honestly, yes it's pretty entertaining." Booth replied. "This is payback, kid. You've been bugging me for like four years now about how Bones and I should totally be together and how we have perfect chemistry and that when the dam broke loose. … Let's just say the dam broke loose. I get to pick on _you_ now about you having a crush on Miss Shaw." He took a bite of his food. "Have you tried their salmon, or Sake, I should say. It is absolutely delicious."

"How did you even know I was going to come here?" Sweets asked in an even tone. His expression was not an amused one.

"You're not the only one with Jedi mind tricks." He winked at Sweets.

Sweets took a deep breath. The waitress sat the water on the counter. "Have you decided on what you'd like to eat yet?" The smile on her face said she'd seen it all.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Booth is very maniacal and I think if Sweets wasn't involved with Daisy on the show Booth would try and pull something like this. Maybe not with Shaw, but with someone else. And I promise this is the last super long chapter! (At least for now.) Thanks for all the reviews, guys! You've been great! :D_


	12. Crash

Sweets was feeling pretty miserable by the end of the day. With all of the humiliation Booth had put him through that day. Well, let's just say he wanted to crawl under a rock. And bringing home a stack of folders that had been dumped on his desk last minute was not helping his mood.

Oh ya! Did he mention it had started to _rain? _Ya. Talk about ironic. It was December for Pete's sake! Why wasn't it snowing? It had been snowing earlier! And now that nice fluffy coating of snow they _did_ have had turned into a nice slushy mess. Absolutely crap-tastic.

All of the humiliation combined with the stress of the newest case was not good. His head was spinning and his stomach churned. Child abuse was a rough enough topic when you weren't abused as a child. If you _were _abused as a child it just made it worse. Add in the fact that your abuser had killed your mother. Talk about a headache.

So now he was on his way over to pick up Alison from the Jeffersonian. It was the normal time he left work every day. He tapped his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel as he sat at the four way intersection. The light was green, but the car in front of him wasn't moving. "Come on!" Sweets groaned aloud. He heard horns honking behind him. He pounded on his horn too. Normally he wouldn't have done this, but his nerves were shot. The car suddenly sped forward and Sweets was quick to follow.

That was when another car t-boned his.

Sweets was thoroughly confused. His world had suddenly taken a wild and violent spin and then stopped. He winced and put a hand up to his head. He brought his hand back down and saw blood on his hand. He looked over to his right to see a truck with a smashed front bumper and demolished grill. He saw someone scramble out of the truck and then start running away. His heavy head then turned to the left where he found another car was smashed against his door. It was the car that had been behind him when he'd been waiting for the light.

He blinked and suddenly found that someone was at his window. "Hey, man, are you alright?" They asked.

"Ya, I'm fine." Sweets replied. "Just hit my head."

"Alright well an ambulance is on the way. You just sit tight until they get here." He said calmly.

"I'm not going anywhere." Sweets confirmed. He leaned his head back against the head rest. Man did his head hurt now.

"Well I'm going to stand here and talk to you until they get here, alright?" The man stated.

"Why?" Sweets asked.

"Because I used to drive an ambulance. The most important thing is to keep you conscious."

Sweets rolled his head over to get a better look at the man leaning in his smashed window. His brows knitted together. "What happened?"

"A truck smashed into your passenger side and spun you around so the car behind you hit your side of the car." He said. "I was just walking past when it happened."

"Everyone's okay?" Sweets asked.

"Sure are." He replied. "What's your name, kid?"

"Lance Sweets." He answered. "Yours?"

"Ted Jayson." The former paramedic answered.

Sweets' eyes drooped shut.

"Hey stay with me, Lance." Ted called.

Booth had been on his way to meet Brennan at the Royal Diner for supper when he'd hit traffic. He grumbled. Of all days for there to be traffic. He looked ahead as best he could and saw that it was jammed up for several blocks. He figured there must have been a crash. He flicked on his red and blue lights and the siren. Might as well make sure everything was taken care of. As cars slowly started shifting so they could clear the way, Booth squeezed his way in between cars to get to the front of the pile-up. He stopped when he saw three smashed vehicles. He recognized the one in the middle.

He jumped out of his car and slammed the door shut. He ran over and skidded across the hood of the small car that had impacted Sweet's side of the car. He was side by side with someone else he didn't recognize. "Who are you?" He demanded.

"Ted Jayson. I'm a former EMT. Who are you?"  
>"Special Agent Seeley Booth with the FBI." He answered. He looked in the window and saw Sweets had his eyes closed. "Sweets!" he yelled in.<p>

"You know him?" Ted asked.

"Ya, he's a psychologist at the FBI."

"Well he's out like a light." Ted responded. "Has been for a few minutes now."

"Great." Booth grumbled. "Is the ambulance on its way?"

"Yes, sir." Ted replied.

"What about the drivers of the other vehicles?" Booth asked.

"I saw the guy driving that truck take off and run after he got his bearings. The driver of this vehicle is other there." He pointed to someone sitting on a park bench. She was on the phone with someone. "She just has some minor scratching and bruising."

"Can we get him out of here?" Booth asked. The car that had rammed into Sweets' side of the car had hit more of his front tire than the door.

"Wait for the paramedics." Ted replied.

Booth looked up as he heard the screeching of fire whistles approaching. If the firemen were here the ambulance couldn't be that far behind.

Two minutes later the ambulance arrived. In that time the firemen had come over and pried Sweets' door open. They had to cut his seatbelt to get him out. When they placed him on the backboard was when he finally started gaining consciousness.

"Hey, Sweets, you alright?" Booth asked as he followed alongside them.

" 'm fine, Agent Booth." He muttered. He pried his eyes open and he squinted in confusion. "When did you get here?"

"When you made me late for my dinner." Booth replied.

"I'm sorry." Sweets apologized.

"Don't apologize for something you didn't do." Booth responded.

Sweets was carefully loaded into the ambulance. "Look this isn't that big of a deal." Sweets said. "I'm fine. Really."

The female paramedic smiled. Typical male.

"Sweets, you have a gash the size of Nebraska on your forehead." Booth replied.

"Nebraska?" Sweets asked in confusion.

"Nebraska." Booth affirmed.

"Alright, sir, can you tell me what your name is and what the current date is?" The female paramedic asked as the doors were pulled shut. Booth situated himself so he wasn't in the way. He had already called Brennan and told her what had happened to Sweets. He'd also called to get someone to pick up his car. So now all he had to do was stay with Sweets.

"Of course I can." Sweets sighed. "Lance Sweets. December 5th, 2011."

"Nice job, Mr. Sweets." The paramedic complimented as she shone a light into his eyes to watch his pupil reaction. "Now we're going to put you on a drip to ease the pain a bit. Okay? You're not allergic to anything are you, Mr. Sweets?"

"No." Sweets replied. He was glad his gaze was fixed on the ceiling. He really didn't want to see the drip being put in.

The paramedic glanced up at Booth for confirmation. Booth shrugged. Deciding that Mr. Sweets was coherent enough to remember his allergies she put the drip in.

Sweets felt the effects almost instantaneously. "Booth?" he asked.

"Yes, Sweets?"

"Has anyone really decided for sure that everything is not bound by one unit of energy?" He asked innocently.

"What was that, Sweets?" Booth asked. He was highly confused.

"You know." Sweets replied. "The Force! It's ubiquitous."

Booth groaned inwardly. Pain medication. "Sweets, I think you should say quiet."

"But, Agent Booth!" He protested. "I feel like extrapolating the balderdash from the truth!"

Booth didn't understand half of these words. He doubted Sweets did either in his state of mind. "Shush, Sweets."

"But Agent Shaw is voluptuous and coquettish and-"

Booth put a hand over Sweets' mouth. "Shut up now before you say something stupid. You should be glad I don't understand a single word you're saying."

The female paramedic chuckled slightly.

When they arrived at the hospital Booth decided he should call the Jeffersonian. He called Cam's office. "Hello this is Doctor Saroyan." She answered.

"Hey, Cam, it's Booth."

"Oh, Booth, good! I was just about to call you. We were wondering if you knew where Sweets was. He said he would be at the Jeffersonian a half hour ago and he's not answering his phone."

"Well that's what I'm calling about." Booth replied.

Cam didn't like his tone. "Go on." She continued in her same tone.

"Alison's in the room, isn't she?" Booth asked.

"Yes." Cam confirmed.

"Sweets was in a car wreck." Booth replied.

Cam swallowed hard to keep her composure. "Is everything alright?"

"He's fine. It wasn't major. He's loopy on pain medication right now. I couldn't shut him up the whole way over here."

Cam laughed slightly and relaxed. "That's good to here. Where are you at? One of us can bring Alison up."

"Central Methodist." Booth replied.

"Alright." Cam said. "We'll see you in a bit."

"Yep." Booth answered and hung up.

Cam sat down her office phone and looked over at Alison. Angela was also in the office. She was leaning on the door frame. "Well it seems Sweets had a slight set back." Cam replied.

"What happened?" Alison asked. She was dressed in some of the new clothes Angela had bought for her. In place of the choker necklace that had been covering up her bruises was a blue scarf.

"He was in a minor car accident." Cam replied. Angela gasped. "Don't worry." Cam added hurriedly. "Booth said that Sweets was talking nonstop the whole way to the hospital because they gave him pain medication. I'm sure he's perfectly fine."

Alison breathed out a sigh of relief.

"What hospital are they at? I can take Alison up since all of her things are in my van." Angela replied.

Cam gave her the hospital name and told her what part of town it was at. Angela and Alison then left quickly to head over to the hospital.

It was a couple hours later when Sweets was all stitched up and sent home. There had been no concussion, just a deep cut on his forehead that had bled a lot. He also had a deep purple bruise across his chest from where the seatbelt had caught him. Other than that he was perfectly fine.

He walked out into the waiting room and saw Booth, Alison, and Angela waiting patiently. "Hey." He greeted.

They all looked up from what they were doing. A smile spread across Alison's face. Angela was not so happy. The amount of gauze that had been taped onto his head was disturbing.

"Please tell me you're off the pain medication." Was the first thing that Booth said as the three of them stood up to greet him.

"Yes." Sweets replied.

"Thank God." Booth said quickly.

Sweets squinted at Alison. "You're wearing different clothes."

"Very observant." Alison replied with a slight smile.

"The thing is, Sweets," Angela started. "Is that this poor girl needed some clothes. So I took her on a little shopping spree."

"Angela, you didn't have to." Sweets protested.

"It was my treat." Angela replied. "And don't you even think about paying me back either. You can just… be our babysitter or something."

Sweets sighed. He wasn't in the mood for arguing right now. "Thank you, Angela."

"You're welcome, Sweets." Angela replied. She looked back up at Sweets' forehead. "Are you sure you're okay?"  
>"Yes, I'm fine." Sweets insisted. "I have twelve stitches, but the doctor said the scar shouldn't be too bad."<p>

"Alright." Angela said and patted Sweets' arm.

"Well, I'm driving you two home." Booth said. "So let's get going." He pushed Sweets carefully toward the car. "Angela, you put all of Alison's stuff in my car, right?"

"Yep." Angela confirmed.

"Thanks again, Angela." Alison replied and followed Booth and Sweets out the doors of the ER. Angela followed and headed towards her van.

"What happened to my car?" Sweets asked.

"It's totaled." Booth replied.

"What?" Sweets stopped and turned around to face Booth.

"It's probably cheaper just to buy a new car, Sweets. Trust me." Booth said.

Sweets frowned. "I just paid off that car." He complained and turned back around. "What about my stuff that was in the car?"

"About that…" Booth started. "You had a stack of folders in the back right?"

"What happened to them?" Sweets asked with no enthusiasm.

"They kind of all got dumped out onto the floor. So now they're in one big pile." Booth replied.

"We were going to sort them for you, but we couldn't figure out how to match them up." Alison chimed in.

"Well thanks for the thought anyways." Sweets replied as he dug his hands into his coat pockets.

"And I already called the FBI and told them you weren't coming in for the next two days." Booth added. "So don't even think about going to work."

Crap. Sweets sighed. He knew he should be thankful that he had friends that cared, but he was irritated at the moment. He decided to change the subject. "Did you hear back about the drug dealer yet?"

"Not yet." Booth replied. "Agent Shaw has some leads that she's going to follow up on tomorrow so I'll let you know how things turn out."

"What about Laurence himself? He's still locked up, right?" Sweets asked.

"Sure is." Booth affirmed. "He's locked up for assaulting a federal officer. His bail is pretty high, though, so I doubt he gets out. That Ryan guy got out though. His bail was relatively low."

"Thanks." Sweets replied sarcastically.

"I wasn't the one that posted the bail. Blame the judge." Booth replied and held his hands up in defense. He then dug around in his pocket for his keys.

"What did Ryan do?" Alison asked.

"Punched me in the mouth." Sweets replied casually. Wait a minute… His thoughts went back to the car crash. "Ryan hit me with his truck." He suddenly stated and looked up at Booth.

"What?" Booth asked. His brows knitted together.

"I remember seeing a guy getting out of the truck that hit me and running away. It was Ryan, Booth. It had to be."

"Are you _sure? _It could have just been your adrenaline." Booth replied. He hoped Sweets was wrong.

"I'm sure." Sweets replied.

Booth sighed and unlocked his SUV. "I'll grab him tomorrow and see if he has an alibi."

"Why would Ryan hit you with his truck?" Alison asked as she opened her car door.

"I don't know." Sweets replied as he crossed over to the passenger side door.

"Let's worry about it later." Booth pressed. "You need to rest up, Sweets. You look awful."

"Thank you, Agent Booth."

"No problem, kid."

* * *

><p><em>AN: Thanks for all the reviews and alerts guys! Every time my iPod dings I get really excited! :D Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter!_


	13. Missing

The car ride over to Sweets' apartment was quiet. Booth's radio was playing a Foreigner CD, but other than that there was complete silence. When they stopped Alison grabbed three bags and Sweets grabbed two. "How much did Angela get you?" Sweets asked dubiously.

"Only what I needed." Alison replied innocently.

"Uh huh."

Alison just grinned.

They said thank you to Booth for the ride and then walked into the apartment complex. They took the elevator up three levels and then walked down the hall a couple doors. He found a box outside of his door. "Well, since I have tomorrow off I can clean out that extra bedroom for you. And we can start looking at schools for you." Sweets said as he jammed his key into the lock. Once he opened the door he pushed the box in with his feet and then swung the door open so Alison could get in.

"That sounds good." Alison replied. "I can help you with the cleaning if you want."

"If you want to." Sweets replied. "It's basically just boxes of college papers, books, and old photo albums. But I haven't been in there for ages so it's probably infested with dust."

"I'll help." Alison replied. "Old photo albums sound interesting. I bet you were the college partying type." She joked.

"Ya, well I was only 14 when I started college. So let's just say the kids weren't all too nice to me." Sweets replied.

"I'm sorry." Alison apologized. In trying to lighten the mood she felt like she'd dampened it.

"It's fine." Sweets said. He sat the bags down that were slung on his arm and then went over to retrieve the box that had been on his door step. He opened it and found all of the contents of the file folders. He groaned inwardly. This was going to take forever.

Alison scooped up the bags Sweets had set down. "Well is there a dresser in that spare room of yours? I could sort out these clothes and put them in there."

"Ya, but I doubt you want to go in there. It'll be easier just to wait 'till tomorrow."

"Alright." Alison agreed.

"I'm going to sort out these papers." Sweets said as he dropped the box onto his kitchen counter. "So you can do whatever. You can use my laptop if you want. It's sitting on the coffee table over there." Sweets pointed over to where the couch and TV were.

Alison, thinking of Facebook, hurriedly agreed. She walked over to the couch and made herself comfortable as the laptop loaded up. Sweets settled himself down on one of the bar stools for the monotonous work that was ahead.

_-break-_

"Well shoot the cow and paint me red." Finn said in amazement as he scratched the back of his head. "I _never _would 'ave seen that."

"Fisher found it yesterday." Wendell confirmed.

"The depressed guy?" Finn asked.

Wendell smirked. "Yep."

"I'm still gettin' a handle on everyone's names." Finn replied.

"I understand." Wendell said as he switched the magnifier off that had been placed over the xiphoid process. "These shifts they have us working because of Doctor Brennan's maternity leave are a bit crazy."

"I know." Finn agreed. "I've worked with Arastoo three times now and you twice, only once with Fisher, and I still haven't worked with Miss Wick."

Wendell nodded. "I can't help but feel like we're missing something. I think it might just be because Doctor Brennan isn't here."

Finn squinted at the skeleton once more. "Actually, I reckon we are missin' something." He moved over to the left side of the freshly cleaned skeleton. "She's missing a rib on this side."

"No way." Wendell looked over and his eyes widened in disbelief. "Well it couldn't have gotten up and walked away!"

Finn crouched down and looked on the floor. "Well it ain't down here."

"Um… I'll go get Doctor Saroyan. You just… keep looking." Wendell said and rushed out.

"Come out, come out wherever you are." Finn called to the missing rib bone. Where could have that thing gone to? He wondered. He got up and looked at x-rays of the skeleton from beforehand. Just as he suspected, it had been there yesterday. So did someone take it? Finn jogged over to Hodgins' office.

"What is it, Opie?" He asked as he saw Finn come through the door.

"Did you happen to take one of the ribs from the skeleton for testing?" Finn asked.

"No. Why?"

"One of the ribs from the victim is missing." Finn replied. "And I can bet a trip through a yella jacket's nest that it didn't just get up and run away."

"Agreed." Hodgins said and stood up from his desk. "Did you tell Cam?"

"Wendell is on his way over to her office as we speak." Finn said.

Hodgins left his office and Finn trailed after him. They met Cam and Wendell back in the examination room.

"You're sure the bone was here yesterday?" Cam was asking Wendell.

"Absolutely." Wendell replied.

"Without a doubt, ma'am." Finn echoed.

Wendell pulled an x-ray out and laid it against the light so you could see it. "Right there it is. These were taken when we first received the victim."

Cam sighed. "Well where else could it be?" She looked to Hodgins.

"I don't have it." Hodgins said and raised his hands up to show his innocence.

"Would Angela have it?" Cam asked.

"Why would Angela have it?" Hodgins retorted.

"I don't know!" Cam said with exasperation. "I'm just trying to think of all the good possible scenarios before I go to the bad ones."

"If you say Gormagon I'm going to throw this at you." Hodgins said as he showed her the clipboard he was holding.

"What's Gormagon?" Wendell asked.

"The reason we needed interns." Hodgins replied darkly.

"Well do we know when it disappeared?" Cam asked. "As in, do I need to call security and lock down the lab so that no one goes in or out?"

"We just got here, ma'am." Finn said.

"It had to have either been last night or this morning." Wendell finished.

"Great." Hodgins groaned. He walked out of the room mumbling something about a silver skeleton.

"I'll call security and get a hold of the security cameras' footage. Meanwhile, continue what you were doing before." Cam said and quickly filed out of the room.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Viola! A new chapter with something new for you to chew on! And I cut you a break with the length! :D_


	14. Adding to the Puzzle

Sweets felt like he'd been in a car wreck when he woke up. … Oh wait. His neck was stiff and sore from whiplash, his chest hurt from the deep purple bruise that ran across it, and his wrists ached from them being blown out of the way by the air bag. Not to mention the constant pounding in his head. He grimaced as his eyes adjusted to the sudden light that filled his apartment. He numbly pulled his blanket off and sat up on the couch. _Dang_ was his neck stiff. He got up and stumbled over to the kitchen counter to grab his bottle of pain medication.

Alison was sitting at the counter eating a bowl of cereal. "Morning, Lance." She greeted.

"Morning." He mumbled and grabbed a glass of water.

"How are you feeling?" Alison asked.

"Sore." Sweets replied and quickly popped some pills into his mouth. He swallowed them with one big swig of water.

"That's to be expected." Alison replied. "I can change your gauze if you need me to."

"Ya, they said I should change it every now and again." Sweets said back.

"Alright." Alison agreed. "Is your first aid kit in the bathroom?"

"Should be under the sink." Sweets said as he poured himself a bowl of cereal.

Alison left her seat and walked over to the bathroom to hunt for the kit.

Sweets sighed and sat at the counter. He stared across the room at the ominous looking door. Behind that door were the remnants of his life with his parents. It contained his first days with the Sweets', his high school days, his college days, and his rebellious death metal days. It was also filled with all of those books he'd read. Books that were probably out of date now. Debunked and disproven.

He decided that it was worth going through though if it kept Alison here. He knew that there would be people investigating this once he registered Alison at school. Especially so when his father got out of jail. He'd want Alison back. Hopefully that wouldn't be until _after _she was eighteen. That way she could do whatever she wanted. She could stay here with him, or she could have a place of her own.

"Found it!" Alison announced as she walked back into the kitchen. She sat the patch of gauze and roll of tape on the counter. She brushed Sweets' hair up and slowly peeled the tape off. Sweets winced as the taped pulled on his skin. "Gosh, this looks worse up close."

"Why thank you." Sweets replied.

Alison quickly threw away the gauze. She scrutinized his wound carefully. "I can't believe Ryan did this to you."

"Ya, well Ryan's a… let's just say he's not very nice." Sweets decided.

"It's not like I have virgin ears." Alison replied with a slight smile.

"That doesn't mean I have to add to their… spoilage." Sweets replied. He had started feeling a tad fuzzy. He reached across the counter and looked at the medication they'd given him. Vicodin. He groaned.

"What's wrong?" Alison asked. She smoothed out the tape she had just placed on the edges of the new gauze square.

"Vicodin! You heard Booth. I react very strongly to pain medications." Sweets said and then scooped in some cereal.

"Actually Booth didn't tell us what happened. He just said that you used a lot of big words that he didn't understand." Alison replied.

Sweets thought back to his ambulance ride. "I believe they were ubiquitous, extrapolating, balderdash, voluptuous, and coquettish."

Alison lifted an eyebrow as she sat back at the counter. "And who were you talking about that was voluptuous and coquettish?"

Sweets' face turned red. "No one."

"Oh come on. I don't have to be a psychologist to know you're lying." Alison replied.

"There's a girl at work." Sweets replied cautiously.

"What's her name?" Alison inquired.

Sweets wasn't used to this kind of talk. "Genevieve, but everyone calls her Genny."

"Oooh." Alison rested her chin in her hand with her elbow on the counter as she stared at Sweets. "So you like her?"

"No!" Sweets said defensively. "I mean, she's attractive-"

"Voluptuous." Alison butted in.

"-but I have Daisy!"

"Daisy?"

"Yes." Sweets sighed. "Daisy Wick. I proposed to her and then broke it off, but I just can't seem to stay away from her." He spun the cereal around in his bowl with his spoon. He started into it as he thought about the lovely undergrad. They had so many memories together. A lot of them were good and only a few bad. "We agreed that we could enjoy each other's company from time to time and then we ended up dating again."

Alison knew what that meant. "Do you still want to marry her?"

Sweets cursed the loose tongue that Vicodin gave him! Normally he would've simply answered this question with a shrug and an, 'I don't know.' Instead he said, "I just want to start a family. I want to raise kids of my own. The right way. Not the way I was raised for the early years of my life. I promised my mom and dad that I would. My _real _mom and dad, not the ones that are actually related to me." He looked up at Alison. "So really, I'd be willing to marry any woman."

"Just any woman that walked up to you?" Alison asked.

Sweets smiled. "Not just any woman. I guess she has to have good standards. She has to have a sense of humor too and be easy to talk to. Reliable. Kind. Those sorts of things."

"Well does Daisy qualify for all of those things?" Alison asked.

"Ya." Sweets frowned.

"What?" Alison pressed.

"She puts her job over other people. Not something on my list. I'd be willing to drop anything for them so they'd have to be willing to drop anything for me."

"Seems reasonable." Alison agreed.

Sweets put his face in his hands. "I can't believe I just admitted that all to you."

Alison chuckled. "Probably the Vicodin."

"Probably."

_-break-_

Seeley Booth was sitting in his office running through some files on this Ryan character. He couldn't decide what to do about what Sweets had told him yesterday. He knew the guy had punched Sweets in the face, but would he really crash his truck into Sweets'? (The plates on the truck that had smashed into Sweets had turned up stolen.)

He sighed, leaned back, and rested his feet up on the desk. His striped socks were now exposed. Booth had to admit that there had almost never been a time where Sweets had been wrong about something… Except that food eating champion Sweets had said was a prostitute. _That _had been an awkward conversation.

That's when his office phone rang. He sat up straight and answered quickly. "Special Agent Seeley Booth." He answered.

"We have a situation, Booth." Cam replied.

Booth leaned forward as he heard the intensity in Cam's voice. "What happened?"

"A rib bone was stolen from the skeleton of Julia Shankle." Cam replied.

"Did you get them on video?" Booth asked. He was shocked someone was able to make it past the security system.

"Yes, I sent you an email with an image Angela rendered attached to it." Cam replied.

"Alright, hold on a second." Booth said as he moved his mouse around and clicked on a bookmark he had that went to his e-mail. He quickly found the image and clicked on it. He grimaced as the image came up. "Ryan Thatcher." He answered.

"Wow! You ran a search that fast?" Cam asked in surprise.

"I didn't need to." Booth replied. "Ryan Thatcher is the one that clocked Sweets in the mouth."

"Oh."

Another thought hit Booth. "When was this picture taken?"

"Um… Around five."

Booth's grimace deepened. "Sweets' car wreck was about half an hour before that."

"What does that have to do with the stealing of the rib bone?"

"Sweets thought he saw Ryan get out the truck that hit him, but I thought he was just hallucinating."

Cam thought back to where Angela had told her the crash had been at. "He could easily get from there to the Jeffersonian in half an hour. Sweets' car wreck was probably a distraction for all of us!"

"Ya." Booth mumbled as he started closing everything down on his computer.

"Uh oh. What's wrong now?"

"Nothing!" Booth replied and slammed the phone down on the receiver.

Cam furrowed her eyebrows as she heard his defensive tone, shrugged, and then hung up.

Booth hated the guilty feeling he had twirling around in his stomach. He had doubted the psychologist and now he felt bad about it. He grabbed his coat and headed out the door. It was time to try and track down Ryan Thatcher.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Sorry I haven't posted in a while guys! I've been triple booked lately with school, Drama Club practice, and Indoor Track practice. Hope you enjoy, and as always, thanks for all the reviews and alerts! :D_


	15. Snow

It was snowing. It was snowing so much that Special Agent Genny Shaw could barely see three feet in front of her. _And _she was in another mini dress. Perfect. Just perfect. She felt bad for the miserable inhabitants of this town. She had grown up in one much like this. It was a little town that lived off of itself. No outside income came in at all except on Fridays when the clubs and bars were open. They just made enough money off of their local business and didn't care what went on in the outside world.

Agent Shaw pushed open a door and walked into a bar. She took count of all the people in the room as she stopped just inside the doorway to tap her heels against the floor mat to get the snow off. She then walked up to the bar, sat down, and ordered a drink. Just in the time that it took for the bartender to get her drink she saw three deals go down. This was definitely a good spot.

As she put the amber liquid to her lips she saw movement out of the corner of her eye. When she put her glass down she turned to the man who had moved beside her.

"The likes of you don't show up around here very often this day of the week." He commented.

Shaw smirked and took a sip from her glass again. She sat it down on the bar and then turned so she was facing the man. "I'm not here looking for business. I'm just looking to buy." She tossed her hair over her shoulder. "You think you could help me with that?"

"That depends on what you're looking for." The man replied.

"The crystal variety." She replied.

"Then you're looking at your guy." He replied. He took a swig out of his own beer bottle. "How much do you want?"

The techs back in the van were amazed how quickly Shaw had been able to locate the dealer and then how much more quickly she'd been able to get the meth. Shaw and the dealer quickly negotiated a price.

"How about you give me ten more dollars off and _I_," she playfully touched the man's nose. She felt his body react at her touch. _Nasty. _"will refer some of my friends your way."

The man smiled and Shaw removed her hand. "I think we have a deal." He decided. "If you'll follow me, please." He got up off of the bar stool and Shaw did the same. She followed him to the back of the bar where they walked into a bathroom. As soon as Shaw was in the bathroom the man she'd been following turned around and cracked her over the head with the beer bottle.

Shaw winced and fell backwards against the door. She put a hand to her head as her vision spun. "What was that for?" She hissed. She looked up to see the dealer holding a gun at her.

"Who do you work for?" He demanded.

"Look, buddy, I don't know-"

"Do I have stupid tattooed to my forehead?" He nearly shouted. The loud country music playing outside probably blocked it out. Shaw had to repress a, _'Maybe.' _"I worked the city before I came here. I know a cop when I see one." He sniffed the air. "You _smell _like a fed."

"Absolutely, I work for the CIA." Shaw shot back sarcastically. "Do you honestly think this little run down bar is any of the governments concern?"

"There was a bust just down the street a few days ago." The man replied.

"Who cares? They probably just got lucky. You of all people should know how corrupt the justice system is." Shaw replied. "Now can you _please_ just give me my stuff so I can go?" She held out her hand expectantly.

The man scrutinized her for a minute. "No." He replied.

"Come on, man." Shaw whined.

"Get out." The dealer replied. He motioned with his gun toward the door.

Shaw started to make herself shake. "Look, you don't understand." Some tears squeezed their way out of her eyes. "I _need _this stuff." She ran a hand anxiously through her hair.

The dealer still didn't believe her though. "Nice try. But I deal with everyone in town and I know when an outsider comes in."

'_Bingo.'_ Shaw thought with an inward smile. Quicker than the dealer's fried nerves could react, Shaw shot her hand out and knocked the clumsily held gun from his hand and into hers. She quickly kneed him in the stomach. The dealer doubled over and Shaw delivered her final blow to the back of his neck with the butt of his own gun. He fell to the floor with a groan. Shaw stepped on his back to keep him in place with her five inch stiletto heels. He groaned again as her heel dug into his shoulder blade. "You worked in the city? I doubt that." She used her right hand to keep the gun pointed at his back and used her left to pull her cell phone out of her bra and dial her tech's phone number.

"Yes hello, Karl, this is Genny. … Oh no, nothing's wrong I just need my friend here collected up. … A problem? Pssh. No, you have nothing to worry about. … Thanks, Karl." She clicked her phone shut and then slid it back into its place. She dug her heel into the dealer's back. "You tell me your name and I'll make sure I take you out of here without anyone knowing what's going on. You don't? Well, let's just say you won't be getting any customers for a while."

"Ray." He squeaked out. "Ray Engleton."

"Alright, _Ray._" She moved her heel from his back and he sighed with relief. He stood up slowly with his hands up. Shaw slid her dress up her leg to reveal an empty holster strapped to her thigh. She slid the gun in and then pulled her dress back down. "You make one move I don't like and your brains will be gone before you can blink. Understood?"

"U-understood." He stuttered.

"Great." Shaw said with a smile as she hooked her arm into his. "Let's go then." Her smile broadened as she saw the sweat trickling down the side of his face and neck. Who said women weren't as strong as men?

_-break-_

Sweets was both happy and sad when his Vicodin wore off. Happy because he could finally think straight again. Sad because his head hurt and sad because he realized he couldn't take Alison in to register at a school because he didn't have a car. He sighed. He'd had that car for five years now. It was like his baby. And he'd just signed the check for his last payment two days ago. Two. Days. And now it was totaled.

"Who's this a picture of?" Alison asked as she held up a photo album.

Sweets looked up and started laughing.

"What's so funny?" She looked from the picture to Sweets and back again. "Oh gosh. This isn't _you _is it?"

Sweets still had a smile plastered on his face as he said, "Ya, it's me. I went through a death metal stage." He'd forgotten how ridiculous he looked back in those days. The picture was of him with heavy white and black make-up on his face and fake blood dripping from his lips. Around his neck were large spikes that stuck out like an ugly dog collar. A touch of barbed wire was even wrapped around his neck. His shirt was a tight black cut off with the word SCREAM emblazoned on it in white scratchy letters. But that wasn't the best part of the picture. He was passed out on his bed with a psychology book on his chest titled, "The Effects of Music on the Brain."

"I thought it was like your cousin or something and you put that book there to be ironic." Alison said with a laugh.

Sweets smiled. "That would be likely."

"Do you have any cousins? From your adopted family, I mean." Alison asked curiously.

"I had three, but we kind of lost contact after both of my parents died." Sweets said and picked up another box from the stack. He had still yet to decide where all of these were going to go. Right now they were just organizing them to see how much stuff Sweets had stowed away in this room. So far there was a stack of ten photo albums. Only some of them were Sweets'. Others were from his parents. They were family tree books that dated back almost eight generations. The family tree book had five pages for each Sweets family. His mother had told him on her death bed that it was his job to keep track of all of the Sweets' and keep the album up to date. He'd eagerly agreed. But now he was sure he was losing track. He wasn't keeping his promise. But he would. Someday. When he had enough time to go travel around and gather pictures and call people. If they wanted anything to do with him. He'd kind of been the outcast of the family since he was the adopted kid.

"I'm sorry." Alison said. "I didn't know your parents had passed away."

"It's alright. It was a couple years ago." Sweets replied. He didn't want to admit that the wound of their death was still fresh for him. He pulled the lid off of the box and was met with a puff of dust. "Oh no." Sweets groaned.

"What? What is it?" Alison asked excitedly and dashed over. She gasped as she looked inside the box. "Yearbooks!" She eagerly took the box from him to sort through for herself. "You have all of your yearbooks?" She marveled.

"I didn't know mom and dad kept them." Sweets replied as he got the next box. "If they kept all of them the first one will be from… 5th grade? I think that was the grade I was in when they adopted me."

"Yep!" Alison confirmed. "Wait… You were six when you were in fifth grade?"

"Yep." Sweets replied. "I was smart for my age… And short."

"Oh…" Alison knew what that combination meant. Bullying to the extreme. She then added quietly, "Is that why you tried out for sports? To try and fit in?"

"Ya." Sweets admitted shyly as he pulled the lid off of another box. "Of course everyone was so much older than me that it wasn't even worth it. I came last in everything except chess."

Alison frowned and looked back down at the yearbook. "You were a cute little kid." She commented.

Sweets smiled slightly. "Thanks."

Alison sighed as she looked back down at the yearbook. She wished she had some happy childhood memories. She remembered one year that she'd had a split lip for the school picture. Every time a teacher saw one of her bruises they'd send her down to guidance. Guidance was where Alison insisted that she was in boxing and it was totally normal for her to have bruises on her face. After about ten or so trips down to the Guidance Office the counselor finally sent out an e-mail to all of her teachers telling them that she was in boxing and that the bruises were not from abuse.

What a lie.

But it worked.

The teachers stopped bugging her about her bruises. Occasionally they'd ask her about her matches with skepticism and she'd quickly rattle off some results. Then the questions stopped altogether and she was just the kid that sat in the back who always handed in their papers on time and answered questions during class. She was practically a nobody. She sat at a lunch table with other people, but they never talked to her. She was always the last one picked in gym class. Why? Because she dressed different. Because she looked different.

The rest of the unpacking passed in relative silence. There were only Alison's questions and Sweets' quick answers. They quickly finished sorting. There was one pile of photo albums about ten books deep, one pile of a book full of newspaper articles, six piles of high school and college papers, and about eight piles of books. A lot of them were psychology books, but others were works of fiction that Sweets had totally forgotten about. They'd been stuffed into storage and forgotten.

"So what do we do with all of these boxes?" Alison asked. Just outside the bedroom door was a stack of about twenty or so boxes.

"I guess we can take them out to the dumpster." Sweets replied.

After crushing them all so they could carry them out in one trip they carefully maneuvered their way into the elevator and then walked outside into the wintry weather. They walked around the apartment complex to the dumpster that was located behind the building. As Sweets put down the cardboard to flip the lid on the dumpster he felt something wet impact his back. Flakes from said impact went down his shirt. "Ah! COLD!" he cried out and started dancing around as he tried to get the snow out of his shirt. Alison started cackling. "Oh _you _are in for it." Sweets glared as he turned around to face Alison. "Come here!" he yelled.

The two ran off, abandoning their cardboard and taking to the snow. "Look, little girl, I'm certified to carry a firearm. That means-" Sweets stopped as another snowball impacted his chest. Sweets quickly threw his own and got a glancing blow across Alison's arm.

"You missed!" She taunted and ducked behind a car.

Sweets quickly scooped snow off of the hood of the car and crouched behind one of the tires. He peeked under the car to see where Alison's feet were. And that's when another snowball hit him in the chest. Sweets started laughing and laid down in the snow. "I surrender!" He then started moving his arms and legs to make a snow angel in the little snow that was on the ground.

Alison ran over and laughed at the sight of Sweets laying in the snow. "Come on let's go back in. It's cold out here."

Sweets chuckled. "Says the one who _didn't _get snow down their shirt."

The siblings quickly went back to their abandoned job and then ran back inside the apartment. Sweets was soaked from lying in the snow. He shivered as they got into the elevator. "Well that was fun." He commented.

Alison glanced over Sweets. "You are _wet._"

"Thank you. I didn't realize this." He replied.

"Ha ha. You're hilarious." Alison replied dryly.

* * *

><p><em>AN: I'm baaaack! :D Hope you enjoyed the chapter! I also hope to be uploading on a more regular basis now that my play is done._


	16. The Dealer

Booth had been sitting in his car brooding for the past hour or so. Now all of that brooding was built up inside of him. It was rage. Rage about him doubting Sweets' after all of this time. He directed this pent up energy toward Ryan Thatcher. He was driving down towards where Ryan's last known address had been. He doubted that he would be there, but it would give him a chance to blow off steam before going home. He huffed and started down a dirt back road.

The road wound around some sharp curves under the sparse cover of naked trees. All the trees had lost their leaves by now and the ground was scattered with their dead brown corpses. Booth glanced down at the GPS system that was built into his SUV. The house should be right up ahead. He carefully pulled his car off the road and then got out of his car. He didn't want Ryan to see him approaching if he did so happen to be in there.

Booth cautiously jogged down the hill to where he could see a driveway. He started walking back the shaded road. He had his hand ready to reach down for his gun if necessary. After a minute or so he could see a small log cabin up ahead. He could see that the windows were boarded up and the door was closed. Good. Perfect for sneaking.

He quickly ran up and padded to the door. He looked at the window and found a crack in the boards. He peered through and saw that lights were on inside. Oh? So Ryan was here.

Booth thought about busting the door in, but figured that a solid wooden door probably wouldn't move. Especially so if he had something locking the door shut. He then decided to search around the cabin. He went around the porch to the left and circled the cabin. There was a screen door in the back that appeared to be open and accessible. Booth opened the door and yelled, "FBI! SPECIAL AGENT SEELEY BOOTH!" He had his gun raised as he cleared the small kitchen area he'd walked into. He moved forward swiftly and found Ryan sitting on a crappy looking lawn chair in a space that served as the living room. Ryan was stumbling to get out of said chair and was failing. It looked like he was avoiding putting pressure on one of his legs. Booth was easily able to pin him to the ground. "What's the matter, Ryan? Get in a car wreck or something?" Booth asked as he slapped handcuffs on his wrists.

"What? What did I do, man?" Ryan asked.

"You're under arrest for assaulting a federal agent. _Again. _And you're also being charged with suspicion of theft from the Jeffersonian."

"The what? Look, I don't know what you're talking about. Honestly-"

"That's what they all say." Booth replied and yanked Ryan to his feet. "Let's get goin', bub."

Booth pushed the limping Ryan towards the door. He was kind of upset that Ryan didn't put up a fight. He was really looking forward to decking this guy in the face. He sighed. Not all dreams could come true.

By the time Booth got back to the FBI building Shaw had arrived back too. She had ran the dealer through all the systems and he was now sitting in the interrogation room. His real name had turned out _not _to be Ray Engleton. It was Donald Richard Eagleson.

Donald Richard Eagleson was what your average meth user looked like. His face was sunken in and he was extremely skinny. He twitched every now and then and you could just see the paranoid look on his face. Occasionally he would mumble to himself and look around. His greasy brown hair hung wildly around his face and only added to the meth user look. Shaw couldn't believe she'd almost had to flirt with this man.

Shaw had changed her attire to what she usually wore on a daily basis. A dress shirt and pants. Comfy. Not skanky. She was grateful to be out of that ridiculous dress and to have her gun in the right spot now. She'd handed the dealer's gun over to forensics so it could get sent through the system and see if it matched any past crimes.

Booth walked into the waiting area outside of the interrogation room. "Well that was fast." He commented as he walked in.

"He wasn't that hard to find, sir." Shaw replied. "I just went to the local bar and he walked right up to me."

"Good." Booth replied. "Did you start questioning him yet?"

"Not yet." Shaw said as she picked up some file folders from the table. "I was about to start though."

"I'll join you." Booth said. "Let's go."

Shaw nodded and headed for the door. Booth pushed it open and let Shaw pass through first before quickly following. "Hello, _Donald._" Shaw greeted with a smile as she walked in. She sat at the chair across from the dealer. The dealer's face paled. Booth placed himself back to Shaw's right. He leaned back against the wall. He'd jump in when needed. Shaw opened up her files and started reading through them. "Donald Eagleson was charged with six counts of drug possession, eight counts of drug paraphernalia, and four counts of driving while under the influence of drugs. So how does a guy like you get charged with all of that and is still able to operate on the streets?" The dealer was obviously uncomfortable. He was shaking and rubbing his arms. His eyes dashed back and forth between Shaw and Booth. It was like he couldn't tell who to be more afraid of so he was watching both of them.

"Calm down there, Twitchy." Booth commented. He received a quick glare from Donald the Dealer and then his gaze shifted back to Shaw.

"I know some people." He stuttered back.

"Look, you're going to have to do more than that." Shaw replied.

"A lot more." Booth added as he took a seat next to Shaw.

"M-my dad. He's… he's the commissioner of the city police." His eyes shifted to the surface of the table.

"That's bull. Do you want to know how I know? I researched every single little inch of your pathetic life while you were in here waiting. I looked at your family, your friends, and the people you think you know. So if your names don't start matching up with mine you're going to be in for a world of hurt." Shaw threatened menacingly. Booth was impressed with how well she could switch from her normal personality to angry interrogator mode.

Donald gulped and stuttered, "Look man, I mean, ma'am. I'm telling you the truth."

Shaw just glared at him.

"C'mon, man." He said to Agent Booth. "Help me out here?"

Booth just glared also.

"You pointed a gun at me." Shaw replied. "I don't think now is the time to play games."

"You ninja attacked me! How am I supposed to respond to that?" Donald yelled. "L-look, I know that you wouldn't waste your precious federal time in a town like Briarsville. So what is this really about?"

Shaw glanced at Booth and he nodded. Shaw took out two pictures and pushed them across the table. "Do you know either of these men?" Shaw asked.

"Sure." Donald replied. "That's Larry and that's Ryan. They're regulars. What, did they do somethin' stupid again?"

"Were they known for their acts of stupidity?" Booth asked as he leaned forward.

"Well ya. Everyone knew what Larry did to that girl of his. Not just his travelling wife, but his daughter. Every time they came and got stuff off of me the girl would show up in the hospital." Donald said it as if it were no big deal.

"So you dealt with Laurence Shankle _and _Ryan Thatcher?" Shaw asked just to make sure.

"Absolutely." Donald replied.

"Hey, the tweaker knows a big word." Booth whisper yelled to Shaw.

Donald frowned. "So what did they do? Is this about the girl?"

"Actually it's about his travelling wife." Shaw pushed a picture forward of the rotting remains of Julia Shankle.

"…Th-that's Julia?" he stammered.

"Ya, and we found your meth on her body." Shaw replied.

"How do you know it's mine?" Donald cried out. "It could be any other dealer's drugs! And just because it was on her doesn't mean I was the one that killed her! Larry would be your main suspect. Second one would be Ryan. They were both hooking up with her when she was around. But I heard that she was pregnant again. Maybe that's why one of them killed her? Actually, Ryan wouldn't have killed her if she was pregnant because he liked beating kids. That's what he did you know? He just-"

"Okay. Stop." Booth shouted over Donald's rambling.

"What do you mean he liked beating kids?" Shaw questioned as her curiosity peaked.

"There was a kid before the girl he has now. He beat that kid too, but the boy got taken away after the police showed up one time. So once Larry was out of jail and his wife came back he knocked her up again, but she got the baby aborted. The next time Larry knocked her up he locked her in his basement for nine months so she couldn't abort the baby." Donald replied.

Shaw didn't know how to respond. He wanted a kid just so he could beat them? That was awful! It was almost unimaginable!

"So you're saying Larry would definitely have killed Julia Shankle?"

"Definitely." Donald repeated. "I wouldn't be surprised if he killed the girl next."

"Why would he kill the girl if he liked beating her?" Booth asked.

"She's going to be turning eighteen in the near future. Duh." Donald replied as he leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. "He'll probably kill Ryan too if he's going on a spree." He looked back and forth between the two quiet agents. "So since I cooperated does that mean you'll let me go?"

"Um, let me think about it." Booth replied. He paused for a fraction of a second and then said, "No." He stood and Shaw was soon to follow suit.

"What? Come on, man." Donald stood up as the agents walked out.

"Don't make me put another bruise on your neck." Shaw threatened. Her tone then turned to a mocking one. "Hey, Booth, aren't you glad nonstop talking is a side effect of meth?"

"Absolutely." Booth replied.

The door clicked shut and Donald sat down with a huff. "Women." He mumbled. "What do they know. Nothing. Nothing!"

Shaw smirked at Donald's yell.

"Is nonstop talking really a side effect of meth use?" Booth asked.

"Yes, sir." Shaw replied.

"Interesting." Booth mused. "Now would you like to explain why there's a large bruise on the back of Mister Drug Dealer's neck?"

"He pulled a gun on me, sir. I had no choice." Shaw replied.

"So you drew attention to yourself on a covert operation?" Booth asked. He crossed his arms over his chest as he waited for her response.

"Actually, sir, we were in the bathroom together when he pulled the gun on me. No one saw. And I walked him out quite quietly. I had my arm wrapped around his neck and everything." Shaw explained.

Booth was taken aback. He had honestly not expected that reply. "Well in that case you're going to observe while I interview Ryan. We may need you another time." The two agents walked out into the hall.

* * *

><p><em>AN: I like interrogation scenes. Don't you? :D Reviews are appreciated! Thanks for all the ones you've given me so far! _


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